PAUL   AND    JULIA; 


OR, 


THE  POLITICAL  MYSTERIES,  HYPOCRISY, 


CRUELTY     OF     THE     LEADERS     OF 


Cljtirrlj  nf 


JOHN    CLAUDIUS    PITRAT, 

OF   THB   UNIVERSITY   OF  FRANCE  ;     EX-KDITOR  OF  "  LA  PEESSE  DU  PECPU 
IW   PABISi    AUTHOR  OF  "JESUITS    UNVKILKDj" 

AND  FORMERLY  A  SO.VAF  CATHOLIC  PRIEST. 


BOSTON: 

EDWARD   W.  HINKS   AND   COMPANY. 
1855. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  18S4,  by 

EDW.  W.  HINKS  &  CO.  AND  J.  C.  PITRAT, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


THE    AMERICAN    PROTESTANTS, 

WHO   EARNESTLY  DESIRE  TO   TRANSMIT   TO  THEIR  POSTERITY 

THE  LIBERTIES  AND  PRIVILEGES 

BEQUEATHED    TO    THEM  BY  .THE  IB  FATHERS,— 
WHO   NOBLY  FOUGHT,   BLED,  AND   DIED,  - 


IN    WHICH    THE    ANTI-AMERICAN    SPIRIT    OF    ROMANISM 
IS   EXPOSED, 


IS    RESPECTFULLY    INSCRIBED. 


(3) 


Ig-fT  To  show  that  MR.  PITRAT,  the  author  of  this  work,  was 
in  good  standing  in  the  Romish  Church,  and  that  extraordinary 
exertions  were  made  to  retain  him,  the  publishers  submit  the  fol- 
lowing letters. 

EDW.  W.  HINKS  &  CO. 


NEW  ORLEANS,  April  2,  1850. 

VERT  DEAR  SIR  :  In  the  absence  of  my  lord  I  have  opened  your 
letter.  I  can  hardly  believe  that  you  have  resolved  to  leave  the  minis- 
try. This  news  will  afflict  the  heart  of  our  bishop,  who  intended  to  call 
you  near  him,  and  to  write  to  you  about  it.  Please  be  not  too  hasty 
in  your  design.  Reflect ;  pray  that  God  enlighten  you.  For  my  part 
I  will  pray,  and  will  order  prayers  for  you.  The  proof  of  confidence 
which  you  have  given  me  induces  me  to  request  you  to  let  me  know 
what  are  your  future  projects.  You  know  my  friendship  towards 
you.  I  have  obtained  from  the  bishop  that  you  live  with  us  in  his 
house,  you  would  have  come  to  the  city  in  May.  Understand  now 
how  sad  is  my  disappointment.  I  shall  be  very  uneasy  till  I  hear 
from  you. 

Believe  me,  your  very  devoted  friend, 

E.  ROUSSELON,  Vicar  General. 


NEW  ORLEANS,  April  4,  1850. 

MYDEARMR.PJTRAT:  I  just  return  from  a  pastoral  visit.  I  cannot 
express  what  I  have  felt  in  reading  your  letter  of  resignation.  What ! 
is  it  possible,  my  dear  priest,  that  having  made  the  sacrifice  of  so 
many  temporal  advantages  to  be  faithful  to  your  ecclesiastical  call- 
ing, you  renounce  it  ?  and  this,  when  I  intended  to  give  you  a  home 
in  my  own  house  ?  O,  please,  my  dear  priest,  reflect.  Your  eternal 
salvation  is  at  stake.  I  think  that  my  kindness  to  you  has  some 
claim  to  my  confidence.  Please  let  me  know  what  are  your  motives 
for  leaving  the  ministry.  Depend  on  my  discretion.  Be  not  hasty, 
and  wait  for  a  letter  from  me.  If  you  prefer,  go  to  Natchez  for 
counsel.  Pray  to  God  with  fervor,  for  you  are  about  to  sacrifice  your 
temporal  welfare  and  your  eternity.  I  am  about  leaving  for  Red 
River  ;  but  it  matters  not ;  direct  your  letter  to  New  Orleans ;  I  shall 
receive  it.  I  will  not  forget  you  in  my  prayers.  This  morning  I 
h»ve  said  the  mass  for  you.  Farewell  again. 

Your  devoted  and  affectionate  servant, 

t  ANT.,  Bishop  of  New  Orleans. 


CONTENTS. 


I.    Valley  in  the  Caucasus,      ......  7 

II.    Enemies  coming, 9 

III.  The  Ossetes  prepare  themselves  for  Battle.  —  Expla- 

nation between  the  Chiefs  of  the  two  Annies,       .  14 

IV.  Julia  entreating  Karem  for  Prisoners,        ...  22 
V.    Conversation  of  Julia  with  a  Prisoner,       ...  25 

VI.    Wakefulness  of  a  Prisoner, 29 

VII.  The  Lesguis  leave  the  Valley.  —  The  Ossetes  intend 
to  attack  them.  —  Julia  has  disappeared.  —  Expla- 
nation,    32 

VIII.    Scene  in  a  Grotto  of  the  Mountain,    ....  36 

IX.    Scene  between  Karem  and  Isram,      ....  89 

X.    Events  in  the  Grotto, 41 

XI.    Visit  to  the  Grotto  of  the  Tombs,     ....  44 

XII.    Paul  commences  an  Account  of  hia  Life,  ...  52 

XIII.  Paul  meets  with  a  Monk, 56 

XIV.  Second  Interview  of  Paul  with  the  Monk, ...  59 
XV.    The  Monk  questions  Paul, 63 

XVI.    Internal  Struggles  of  Paul, 74 

XVII.    Utterance  of  Father  Francis  to  Paul,        .       .        .  79 

XVIII.     Profession  of  a  Novice.  —  Secret  of  Happiness,         .  91 

XIX.    Paul  falls  in  Love, 108 

XX.    Paul's  Dreams  of  Love, 112 

XXI.    Paul  in  Athens, 114 

XXII.    Paul  comes  again  to  Naples.  —He  meets  with  Father 

Francis,    .    ^^.«.-  , 117 

(5) 


6  CONTEXTS. 

CHAPTER  PAC« 

XXIII.  Paul's  Despair 125 

XXIV.  Entrance  of  Paul  into  Religion.  —  His  Mother 

calls  upon  him, 129 

XXV.    Sufferings  of  Paul  in  the  Convent.  —  Letter  of 

Attorney, 141 

XXVI.  Departure  of  Paul  from  Naples.  —  He  encounters 
his  Mother  in  Constantinople.  —  Scene  between 
them  and  Father  Ignatius,  ....  155 
XXVII.  Father  Ignatius  and  Paul  embark  to  cross  the 
Black  Sea.  — Tempest.  —  Shipwreck.  —  Circum- 
stances that  brought  Paul  on  the  Mountains.  — 

Recognizance, 171 

XXVIII.    Julia  seeking  Solitude.  —  Internal  Struggles  of 

Paul, 180 

XXIX.    Happiness  of  the  Inhabitants  of  the  Valley  of  the 

Ossetes «187 

XXX.  Isram  commences  to  relate  to  Paul  the  History  of 
his  Life. — Place  of  his  Nativity.  —  His  Travels 
through  Europe.  —  His  Inquiries  about  Chris- 
tianity. —  His  Investigations  on  Truth.  —  He 
renounces  his  Religion, 190 

XXXI.     Various  Christian  Churches.  —  Anecdote.  —  Ro- 
manism,        205 

XXXII.  Return  of  Isram  to  Constantinople.  —  End  of  the 
Relation  of  Isram.  —  His  Conversation  with  his 
Father  on  Christianity,  Mahometanism,  Roman- 
ism, and  Christian  Fraternity,  ....  213 

XXXIII.  Chase.  —  Paul's  Resolution, 252 

XXXIV.  Disappointment  of  the  Tribe  of  Ossetes  by  Paul's 

Departure, .'  258 

XXXV.    Paul  in  Naples.  —  He  calls  upon  the  Reverend 

Father  Francis 260 

XXXVI.    Disclosures, 265 

XXXVII-    Continuation  of  Disclosures.  —  Conclusion,  .       .  296 


is. 


CHAPTER    J. 


VALLEY    IN    THE    CAUCASUS. 

N  the  western  side  of  the 
Caucasus  a  lofty  peak 
arises,  and,  like  a  spear, 
shoots  towards  heaven. 
Lower  down,  a  high 
mountain  unrolls  itself, 
and,  like  a  monstrous 
serpent,  winds  towards 
the  horizon. 

When,  through  the 
snows,  the  mountaineer 
has  climbed  their  sides, 
wearied  he  sits  on  the 
summit,  and  contem- 
plates the  immensity  which  surrounds  him.  What 
strikes  him  in  this  picture,  where  the  colors  are  so 
rich,  the  landscapes  .so  varied,  and  the  objects  deline- 
ated in  such  gigantic  proportions,  is  a  deep  valley, 


8  PAUL   AXD    JULIA. 

wliich  resembles  a  vast  sheet  spread  by  the  hand  of 
nature.  At  his  feet  gush  forth  the  sources  of  many 
small  torrents,  which,  confined  in  their  pebbly  beds, 
murmur,  fall,  roll,  and  fall  again  in  foam  from  rock  to 
rock,  until  they  reach  the  base  ;  then  glide  gently 
along,  and  Avater  the  meadows  in  their  course. 

Dark  forests  blacken  the  sides  of  the  mountain,  and 
beyond  are  planted  large  vineyards.*  fields,  divided 
into  innumerable  portions,  display  their  green,  pale, 
and  darker  hues,  and  are  ornamented  by  blooming  fruit 
trees.  Numerous  flocks  are  grazing  silently.  The 
shepherds,  grouped  around  large  fires,  join  in  merry 
sports.  The  woodman,  felling  the  trees  to  enlarge  his 
domain,  makes  the  forest  resound  with  the  stroke  of 
his  axe.  In  every  direction,  the  laborers  are  heard 
repeating  some  joyous  songs  of  the  Caucasus. 

Scattered  here  and  there  are  humble  cottages  and 
modest  habitations,  surrounded  by  orchards.  In  the 
centre  of  the  hamlets  is  neither  mosque  nor  minaret, 
but  only  a  rude  wooden  tower,  with  sides  and  angles, 
roughly  squared.  This  valley,  which  forms  so  luxu- 
riant a  carpet,  where  all  objects  are  so  pleasing  to  the 
eye,  is  inhabited  by  a  colony  of  the  Ossetes. 

*  The  religion  of  the  Ossetes  is  an  imperfect  mixture  of  Mahom- 
etanism  and  Christianity.  They  raise  grapes,  as  well  as  the  Abazes 
and  other  tribes  of  the  Caucasus. 


PAUL    AND    JULIA. 


CHAPTER    II. 


ENEMIES    COMING. 


T  was  on  the  evening  of  one 
of  those  beautiful  daj'f ,  when 
Nature,  having  cast  off  her 
winding-sheet  of  death,  cele- 
brated her  new  birth,  and,  to 
the  delight  of  mortals,  robed 
herself  in  her  tunic  of  green 
and  flowers.  The  domes  in 
the  valley  cast  their  dark  and 
lengthened  shadows  far  in  the 
distance.  The  sun,  having 
reached  the  top  of  the  peak, 
gilded  its  crest,  and  his  bloody 
disk  seemed  an  eye  of  fire  on 
the  brow  of  this  giant  of  the 
mountains.  Along  the  western  side  streamed  floods 
of  light,  which  were  reflected  near  the  summit  by  its 
snowy  or  frozen  plains  and  rugged  surfaces.  Lower 
down,  the  beams  were  caught  by  the  ridges,  points, 
and  cornices  of  the  rocks,  and  multiplied  into  myriads 
of  golden  rays,  which,  losing  their  brightness  a.s  they 
descended,  made  darker  the  valley  below. 

The  departing  sun  soon  gilded  ihe  outline  of  the 
eternal  snows.  The  children  sported  before  their  fa- 
thers as  they  returned  from  labor.  The  women,  joy- 
ful at  the  return  of  those  they  loved,  prepaiid  the 


10  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

evening  meal.  The  vinedresser  laid  aside  his  pruning 
knife,  and  came  merrily  singing.  The  ploughman 
urged  his  weary  team,  as  it  slowly  brought  hack  the 
plough.  In  a  short  time,  all  the  laborers  had  reached 
their  homes,  and  by  their  cheerful  firesides  refreshed 
themselves,  after  the  fatigues  of  the  day,  in  the  bosoms 
of  their  families. 

Aftei  the  evening  meal,  the  daughters  of  the  valley 
were  seen  directing  their  steps  to  a  solitary  grove, 
where  they  knelt,  joined  their  hands,  lifted  their 
eyes  towards  heaven,  and  fervently  recited  an  evening 
prayer : — 

"  Prophet  of  the  Almighty,  draw  thy  lips  for  a 
moment  from  the  voluptuous  cup ;  suspend  thy  ever- 
lasting drunkenness,  and  from  thy  heaven  let  fall  on 
our  valley  a  smiling  look. 

"  Divine  Mahomet,  listen  to  the  prayer  of  the  young 
Ossetino. 

"  The  daughter  of  the  mountains,  living  far  from  the 
cities,  does  not  hear  from  the  top  of  the  minarets  the 
signal  of  the  holy  hour.*  She  has  never  seen  thy 
grand  pontiff.  No  man  teaches  her  thy  sublime  ora- 
cles. She  has  no  mosque  in  which  she  burns  incense 
to  thee.  From  the  garden  of  the  flagrant  flowers  of 
the  valley  she  lifts  her  eyes  towards  thee :  accept  at 
least  the  incense  which  she  burns  to  thee,  that  of  her 
heart. 

"  Divine  Mahomet,  listen  to  the  prayer  of  the  young 
Ossetine. 

*  The  Mahometans  use  no  bells  in  their  mosques :  their  Imams, 
or  priests,  announce  the  divine  services  by  str  lung  a  board  on  the 
top  of  the  minarets. 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  11 

"  Ask  for  her  sheep  a  rich  wool ;  for  her  goat,  a  silky 
gown  ;  for  her  flock,  abundant  pasture.  Obtain  for  her 
field,  an  exuberant  harvest ;  for  her  tribe,  happiness 
here  below;  for  those  endeared  to  her,  long  days  and 
undisturbed  old  age. 

"  Divine  Mahomet,  listen  to  the  prayer  of  the  young 
Ossetine. 

"The  brooks  murmuring  flow  along  the  valley  ;•  thus 
flows  the  stream  of  her  life.  She  wishes  for  wisdom, 
beauty,  and  virtue  ;  for  a  lover,  the  most  valiant  among 
young  warriors,  the  most  faithful  among  husbands. 
Through  thy  intercession  the  Great  Spirit  will  grant 
aer  wishes. 

"  Divine  Mahomet,  listen  to  the  prayer  of  the  young 
Ossetine." 

And  the  young  supliants  hailed  the  Occident. 

Suddenly  the  shepherds,  who  were  attending  to  their 
flocks  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley,  ran,  exclaim- 
ing, "  We  have  seen  enemies  beyond  the  mountain  !  " 

From  every  hamlet,  from  every  family,  the  alarming 
cry  went  forth,  "  To  arms  !  to  arms !  Enemies  are 
coming  !  " 

The  shepherds  were  led  to  the  chief,  who  asked 
them,  — 

"  Where  did  you  see  those  enemies  ?  " 

"  Beyond  the  mountain  of  the  prophet,  near  that  one 
which  is  still  covered  with  snow." 

"  Why  suppose  you  they  are  enemies  ?  " 

"  Their  costume  and  armor  are  so  strange." 

"  Are  they  numerous  ?  " 

"  They  are  a  whole  tribe." 

"  Are  there  horsemen  among  them  ?  " 


12  FAITL    AXD   JULIA. 

"  Hundreds  of  them." 

"  Is  their  armor  that  of  a  neighboring  tribe  ?  " 

"  We  do  not  know." 

Isram  hurried  among  the  people  already  assembled, 
"  To  arms  !  "  cried  he  ;  "  lef  s  haste  to  the  battle 
tower." 

The  young  men  immediately  took  down  their  swords, 
and  girded  on  them  their  belts,  on  which  two  bright 
pistols  were  suspended  ;  mounted  their  warlike  steeds, 
who,  animated  by  the  noise  and  spur,  with  fiery  eyes, 
flaming  nostrils,  and  foaming  mouths,  shook  their  flow- 
ing manes,  champed  their  bits,  and  pawed  the  ground. 
Those  warriors  who  had  shed  their  blood  in  the  battle 
field  equipped  themselves  in  the  glorious  armor  taken 
from  their  enemies,  and  hastened  to  guide  and  encour- 
age those  valiant  youths.  The  young,  fair,  and  beau- 
tiful Ossetines  arranged  their  quivers,  placed  their 
buckler  to  the  left  arm,  bent  their  bows,  brandished 
poisoned  arrows,  and  flew  to  the  battle  tower.  The 
old  men,  whose  limbs  were  stiffened  by  toil  or  para- 
lyzed by  noble  wounds,  advanced  more  slowly,  and  with 
difficulty  mounted  the  steps  of  this  ancient  tower, 
where  were  deposited  the  arms  which  they  had  han- 
dled in  their  youth,  and  from  whence  they  had  so  often 
seen  their  enemies  flying. 

Isram  reached  the  top  of  the  tower.  He  raised  his 
voice,  and  all  became  silent. 

"  Sons  of  the  valley,  seeing  in  the  hands  of  strangers 
the  torch  of  fire,  and  the  chain  of  slavery,  you  have 
said,  '  Let  us  protect  our  homes  !  Let  us  repel  slavery  ! 
Let  our  arms  rise  simultaneously  to  strike  the  enemy.' 
This  expression  is  noble ;  you  will  be  victorious ;  for 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  13 

union  gives  strength.  Why  are  my  steps  tottering,  and 
my  hands  feeble,  that  I  cannot  march  at  your  head  ? 
Alas !  I  have  not  even  a  son,  with  the  hands  of  whom 
I  would  fight  with  you.  The  grass  is  growing  upon 
his  tomb. 

"Warriors,  God  sees  the  justice  of  your  cause.  He 
will  bless  your  arms.  But  when  victorious,  shed  no 
more  blood.  He  has  said  by  the  mouth  of  Christ, 
that  we  must  forgive  our  enemies." 

Then  the  old  men  and  mothers  of  the  warriors,  stand- 
ing upon  the  tower,  raised  their  feeble  hands  and  sup- 
plicating eyes  towards  heaven,  and  with  weak  and 
trembling  voices,  prayed,  — 

"  Great  Spirit,  Sultan  of  heaven  and  earth,  curse  the 
strangers  who  trouble  us  in  the  decline  of  life ;  who 
bring  to  our  sons  slavery,  to  our  daughters  dishonor. 
Cause  their  arms  to  be  broken  by  the  first  shock,  and 
their  arrogance  subdued.  Protect  our  soldiers ;  give 
strength  to  their  arms,  and  courage  to  their  hearts. 
Preserve  them  ;  if  they  fall,  who  will  bury  us  ?  Who 
will  plant  over  our  tombs  the  cypress  tree  of  remem- 
brance ?  And  thou,  God  of  Christians,  whom  so  many 
nations  supplicate,  whom  our  chief  also  worships, 
thou  who  hast  endowed  him  with  such  rare  wisdom, 
such  deep  science,  curse  the  strangers,  for  thou  art 
also  the  God  of  battles." 


14 


PAVL    AXD    JULIA 


CHAPTER    III   . 


THE    OSSETE8  PEEPAEE  THEMSELVES    FOR    BATTLE. 

EXPLANATION  BETWEEN   THE  CHIEFS  OF   THE    TWO 
ARMIES. 

VHE  warriois  had  formed 
their  lines  of  battle,  when 
a  young  amazon,  appear- 
ing at  the  head  of  the  bat- 
talions, attracted  all  eyes. 
Her  hands,  white  and 
soft  as  the  feathers  of  the 
swan,  sometimes  let  fall  the 
reins  of  her  steed,  then  stim- 
ulated and  subdued  him. 
Her  robe  displayed  her 
beautiful  form,  and  fell  in 
long  and  graceful  folds. 
A  sword  was  suspended 
at  her  girdle,  which  was 
fastened  with  a  white  buc- 
kle. A  necklace  of  pearls 
was  twined  round  her  neck,  and  fell  in  saltier  upon 
a  purple  baldrick,  to  which  her  quiver  was  attached. 
A  bow  hung  on  her  shoulder ;  an  aegis  shielded  her 
breast.  Her  long  hair  was  negligently  knotted  back. 
Confined  in  front  by  a  gold  clasp  was  a  scarf  of  silky 
tissue,  the  outlines  of  which  displayed  the  brightness 
of  many  colors.  The  fire  of  her  eyes ;  the  tears  which 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  15 

sometimes  moistened  her  eyelids  at  the  sight  of  the  old 
man  ;  her  rosy  mouth  ;  the  expression  of  the  smile  de- 
lineated on  her  lips,  and  the  celestial  beauty  of  all  her 
features  deified  her  face.  It  was  Julia,  the  grand- 
daughter of  the  chief  of  the  tribe. 

Suddenly  a  heavy  rolling  sound  was  borne  along  the 
side  of  the  mountain.  It  was  like  an  avalanche  fall- 
ing from  a  precipice,  bearing  with  it  detached  rocks, 
shattering  and  overthrowing  immense  pines  in  its  de- 
scent, and  filling  the  ravines,  and  beds  of  the  torrents, 
with  the  fragments.  In  the  obscurity  were  seen,  on 
the  brow  of  the  mountain,  .cavaliers  with  shining  ar- 
mor, horses  loaded  with  booty,  and  numerous  flocks 
driven  by  slaves.  The  trampling  of  feet,  the  neighing 
of  horses,  the  bleating  of  sheep,  and  the  lowing  of  cat- 
tle produced  noisy  and  confused  clamors. 

"  To  arms,  noble  sons  of  Ossetes  !  "  cried  Isram. 
"  Strangers  bring  us  fetters.  Let  us  live  free,  or  all 
die  rather  than  submit  to  slavery.  To  arms  !  to  arms  ! 
Let  us  hasten  to  repulse  tyrants." 

The  warriors  shout  their  songs  of  maledictions  :  — 
"  Lift  your  heads,  valiant  Ossetes.  Strangers  crown 
our  mountains.  They  come,  torch  in  hand,  to  ravage 
our  fields,  to  burn  our  cottages.  They  wish  to  drive 
away  our  flocks,  and  take  away  our  treasures.  Hear 
their  loud  outcries  of  fury,  their  savage  shouts  of  bat- 
tle and  death !  See  the  swords  glittering  in  their 
hands. 

"  They  say  in  their   barbarous   drunkenness,  — 
"  '  We  will  take  children  from  their  mothers.' 
"  Madmen  !  do  they  think  to  see  again  their  own  ? 
"  '  We  will  violate  their  wives  bathed  in  tears.' 


16  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

"  Theirs  will  soon  weep  their  widowhood. 

"  '  We  will  defeat  them  ;  we  will  take  their  valley.' 

"We  will  be  their  tyrants,  or  they  shall  fall,  and 
cover  the  rocks  crimsoned  with  their  blood. 

"  Let  them  rapidly  descend  from  the  mountain.  Our 
steeds,  with  pliant  limbs  and  nimble  feet,  will  trample 
them  down,  and  cover  their  bodies  with  foam.  Let 
their  trumpets  sound  for  the  combat. 

"  Warriors,  draw  your  swords.  Women  of  brave 
hearts,  bend  your  bows.  Let  your  arrows  darken  the 
air,  and  pierce  their  bodies.  They  will  fall,  biting  the 
dust.  We  will  tear  out  their  hearts,  and  give  them 
for  food  to  the  wild  beasts.  God  of  our  families,  God 
of  our  firesides,  march  and  fight  with  thy  children  !  " 

The  battalions  moved,  and  were  about  to  rush  upon 
the  enemy,  when  three  cavaliers  presented  themselves. 
They  dismounted,  and  asked  to  speak  to  the  chief.  A 
murmur  of  surprise  pervaded  the  ranks.  The  lines 
opened,  and  they  bowed  respectfully  before  Isram,  who 
thus  addressed  them  :  — 

"  Strangers,  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Illustrious  chief,"  replied  the  youngest,  "my  broth- 
ers in  arms  are  two  captains  of  the  advancing  army, 
and  I  am  the  young  Karem,  son  of  their  commander." 

"  Under  what  sky  were  you  born  ?  What  country 
cradled  you  ?  " 

"The  Caucasus  is  the  country  of  our  birth;  the 
Lesguitan  Mountains  were  our  cradles." 

"  What  brought  you  to  our  valley  ?  Are  you  friends 
or  enemies  ?  " 

"  We  are  friends,  and  come  to  ask  alliance  and  hos- 
pitality." 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  17 

A  beam  of  pleasure  overspread  the  countenance  of 
Isram,  and  every  face  was  radiant  with  confidence  and 
joy.  With  one  voice  they  all  exclaimed, — 

"  Yes,  we  offer  you  hospitality,  and  accept  your  alli- 
ance. The  strangers  are  no  longer  enemies  ;  they  are 
our  brothers." 

Immediately  a  cavalier  leaped  the  space,  and  an- 
nounced to  the  Lesguis  the  happy  news  of  friendship. 
Then  shouts  of  joy  were  echoed  in  the  valley.  Soon 
Lesguis  and  Ossetes  mingled  together,  and  saluted 
each  other  with  cordiality. 

The  two  chiefs  advanced  into  the  midst  of  the  bat- 
talions, placed  their  hands  upon  the  blade  of  a  lance, 
raised  their  eyes  to  heaven,  and  confirmed  by  an  oath 
their  contracted  alliance.  They  had  exchanged  but. a 
few  words,  when  their  voices  were  drowned  by  the  ac- 
clamations of  the  people.  The  Ossetes  shared  their 
humble  cottages  with  the  Lesguis,  and  erected  tents 
under  the  spreading  branches  of  the  trees,  and  drove 
their  flocks  to  the  richest  pastures.  The  women  lighted 
large  fires,  and  prepared  for  a  fraternal  banquet  the  most 
delicious  meats,  and  served  an  abundance  of  the  richest 
milk.  The  young  girls  took  osier  baskets,  which  they 
had  woven  with  their  own  hands,  lined  them  with  green 
leaves,  filled  them  with  the  golden  fruits  of  autumn, 
gracefully  arranged  clusters  of  the  finest  grapes,  and 
bore  them  to  the  place  where  the  young  men  had  ar- 
/anged  the  banquet,  and  served  the  most  generous 
wine. 

Isram  led  the  commander  of  the  Lesguis  into  their 
midst.  He  was  robed  in  a  beautifully-worked  tunic, 
whose  drapery  fell  in  graceful  festoons.  Around  his 
2* 


18  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

waist,  he  wore  a  large  white  scarf,  symbol  of  his  au- 
thority. A  long,  thick  beard  covered  his  chin,  and 
whitened  his  breast.  His  forehead  was  furrowed  with 
wrinkles,  as  the  rough  trunk  of  an  old  oak,  and  his 
head  whitened  with  the  winters  of  age,  as  the  moun- 
tains with  the  snow.  The  mildness  and  firmness  of 
his  appearance,  the  serenity  of  his  countenance,  the 
majesty  of  his  figure,  and  the  dignity  of  his  step 
commanded  the  respect  and  veneration  of  all.  He 
seemed  the  personification  of  wisdom  descended  from 
heaven. 

Both  took  their  places  ;  and  Isram,  at  the  request 
of  Karem,  presided  at  the  festival.  His  table  was  not 
more  sumptuously  served  than  the  others.  He  did  not 
take  a  place  of  distinction ;  for  he  felt  that  he  was  the 
brother,  and  not  the  lord,  of  the  people  over  whom  he 
presided ;  that  the  first  among  brothers  ought  to  be 
the  servant  of  all.  He  knew  that,  accepting  the  elec- 
tion of  his  tribe,  he  had  assumed  a  priesthood,  by 
which  he  became  a  victim  and  a  holocaust ;  that  he 
had  engaged  to  govern  only  with  love  and  self-denial. 
At  his  right  sat  Karem,  and  at  his  left,  the  young  am- 
azon,  whose  appearance  was  so  martial,  whose  looks  so 
mild.  She  bestowed  upon  him  the  most  affectionate 
attentions,  served  him  with  food,  filled  his  cup,  and 
presented  it  to  him.  Near  her  sat  young  Karem,  who 
was  attracted  by  her,  and  seemed  absorbed  in  thought. 
The  assembly  already  pledged  each  other,  and  drained 
their  cups  to  the  sweets  of  friendship.  The  Lesguis 
were  surprised  at  such  generosity,  and  were  at  a  loss 
to  express  their  gratitude.  The  oldest  inhabitants  of 
the  valley  said  they  had  never  seen  so  fine  a  feast. 


PAUL   A>*D   JULIA.  19 

Witnessing  the  enjoyment  of  all,  Isram  could  not 
refrain  from  expressing  to  Karem  his  delight  at  the 
happiness,  order,  and  harmony  which  prevailed  among 
them.  He  then  addressed  him  thus  :  — 

"  Karem,  will  you  relate  the  events  which  procured 
us  the  pleasure  of  this  visit  ?  " 

"  Illustrious  chief,"  he  answered,  "  these  are  they : 
The  last  snows  still  whitened  the  earth  when  the 
trumpet  of  departure  sounded  among  the  Lesguis.  The 
cowardly  tribe  of  the  Abazie  attempted  to  beguile  oui 
old  men,  our  wives,  and  children ;  but  swiftly,  as  the 
deer  flying  before  the  arrow  of  the  huntsman,  we  pur- 
sued them.  As  rapidly  as  an  eagle  seizes  a  lamb  ana 
mounts  above  the  clouds,  we  cut  off"  their  retreats, 
destroyed  their  habitations,  took  possession  of  theii 
wealth,  fettered  their  hands,  and  are  now  returning  tc 
our  own  country." 

"  Why  have  you  taken  so  long  and  circuitous  a 
router" 

"  In  order  to  avoid  the  perfidious  attacks  of  their 
allies." 

"  You  must  have  lost  many  of  your  flocks." 

"  A  great  number  are  scattered  in  the  desert,  and 
many  have  rolled  to  the  bottom  of  the  chasms  which 
bordered  the  winding  and  slippery  paths.  Others, 
passing  on  the  bridges  which  broke  under  them,  fell 
into  precipices." 

"  The  tribe  must  have  suffered  much." 

"  Yes ;  the  rough  roads  wore  out  our  shoes,  and  the 
bloody  traces  of  our  footsteps  are  left  on  our  paths.  The 
briers  and  thorns,  which  obstructed  our  way  through 


20  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

the  forests,  tore  our  garments,  left  us  only  the  fur  lin- 
ings, and  thereby  exposed  us  to  the  rigorous  cold. 
Our  resting-place  was  the  snow  or  ice  ;  we  have  cruelly 
suffered." 

"  Have  you  lost  many  of  your  companions  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  the  bodies  of  some  were  swept  away  by  the 
cold,  deep  waters,  which  we  were  obliged  to  swim ; 
others  have  been  buried  under  the  falling  avalanche ; 
many  lie  without  sepulture  in  the  deep  pits ;  and  the 
frozen  bodies  of  a  great  number  still  serve  as  food  for 
the  wild  beasts  which  followed  our  steps.  When  we 
reached  the  delightful  climate  of  this  valley,  and  placed 
our  feet  on  your  ground,  we  said,  '  Let  us  ask  hospi- 
tality of  this  tribe.  If  they  suffer  us  to  erect  our  tents 
near  their  dwellings  and  rest  our  wearied  forces,  our 
flocks  shall  not  browse  upon  the  pastures ;  our  horses 
shall  not  trample  their  grain ;  we  will  not  destroy  the 
blossoms  which  adorn  their  fruit  trees  ;  we  will  respect 
the  females,  and  caress  the  children  upon  their  moth- 
ers' knees  ;  we  will  give  them  presents,  and  divide  our 
spoils  with  them.'  Illustrious  chief,  you  have  given 
us  hospitality ;  then  you  may  rely  upon  our  lasting 
gratitude." 

Isram  pressed  the  hand  of  Karem,  and  the  whole 
issembly  joined  in  loud  shouts  of  pleasure  and  friend- 
ihip. 

When  the  guests  were  satisfied,  overcome  by  fatigue, 
4nd  sleep  overpowering  them,  they  prostrated  them- 
selves ;  both  those  who  worship  God  by  the  inter- 
cession of  Christ  and  those  who  invoke  him  by  the 
mediation  of  the  Great  Prophet  turning  themselves  to- 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  21 

wards  the  east.  They  with  one  accord  addressed  the 
Eternal  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving ;  for  they  believed  to 
offer  him  by  the  diversity  of  their  prayers  an  incense 
of  sweet  odor,  as  agreeable  to  him  as  it  is  to  us  to 
inhale  the  perfume  of  a  parterre  filled  with  a  variety 
of  fragrant  flowers. 


22 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

JULIA   ENTREATING    KAREM    FOB    PRISONERS. 

(HILE  the  others  were  re- 
joicing, Julia  was  sad  ; 
her  eyes  were  swimming  in 
tears  ;  her  gaze  was  fixed 
on  a  multitude  cast  down 
by  suffering,  led  in  cap- 
tivity, and  separated  from 
the  crowd  as  leprous.  They 
were,  it  is  true,  sheltered 
under  tents,  but  not  at 
liberty;  they  were  pres- 
ent at  the  banquet,  but  in 
quality  of  slaves ;  their 
hands  were  loaded  with 
chains,  and  their  heads 
turned  from  their  oppress- 
ors. 

Those  men  were  silent ;  their  heads  bowed  down ; 
their  visages  meagre ;  their  countenances  inanimate  ; 
their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  earth.  Their  vestments  hung 
in  rags ;  their  feet  were  bruised,  and  the  blood  was 
Tunning  from  their  wounds ;  their  wearied  bodies 
sought  support.  Who  would  have  recognized  in  them 
the  impetuous  Abazes,  free  in  their  own  country  as  the 
eagle  in  the  heavens  ? 

At  the  thought  of  their  homes,  they  were  withering 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA.  23 

as  the  branches  severed  from  their  trunk.  A  file  cor- 
rodes iron ;  so  captivity  was  corroding  the  manliness 
of  their  souls. 

Isram  comprehended  the  sadness  of  Julia,  and  suf* 
fered  in  silence  ;  but  the  young  Karem  remarked  it  to 
his  father,  who  said  to  her,  — 

"  Daughter  of  Isram,  will  you  allow  me  to  make  a 
request  of  you  ?  " 

"  O  chief  of  the  Lesquis,  it  is  sufficient  to  let  ms 
know  your  wishes." 

"  Reveal  to  us  the  cause  of  the  deep  sadness  which 
your  gracious  smile  veils." 

"  Alas  !  how  can  I  be  gay  ?  " 

"  Why  not,  when  the  joy  of  the  tribes  is  so  great  ?  " 

"  I  could  wish  to  participate  in  their  joy,  but " 

"  Finish,  Julia,  and  speak  your  thoughts." 

"  It  is  that,  near  us.  I  see  a  whole  multitude  that 
are  unhappy." 

"  Too  generous  girl,  why  are  you  affected  by  the 
fate  of  those  men,  who  are  our  enemies?  The  same 
evils  with  which  they  wished  to  oppress  us  have 
fallen  upon  themselves." 

"  Ah,  Karem,  happy  are  those  who  have  never  known 
slavery  ;  who  have  always  lived  in  the  land  of  their 
nativity,  and  never  been  thrown  among  strangers.  The 
maternal  caress,  early  love,  the  tenderness  of  a  wife, 
the  sweet  effusions  of  friendship,  the  smiles  of  the  new 
born,  make  life  flow  so  sweetly !  But,  alas !  those 
sweets  will  be  to  these  unfortunates  but  bitter  recol- 
lections. They  are  in  chains.  Their  sufferings  mil 
not  have  an  echo  in  any  heart.  Beloved  lips  will 
never  again  imprint  a  kiss  upon  their  foreheads.  They 


24  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

will  live  without  hope,  and  die  alone,  far  from  their 
friends  and  home.  O,  how  much  happier  are  their 
brothers  in  exile,  whose  bodies  are  scattered  on  the 
frozen  mountains ! " 

"  Still,  Julia,  I  cannot  set  them  at  liberty." 
"  Noble  chief,  you  can  at  least  ameliorate  their  con- 
dition, and  that  will  relieve  my  heart  of  the  weight 
which  oppresses  it." 

"  Speak,  and  your  wishes  to  me  shall  be  commands." 
"  Let  me  offer  consolation  to  your  prisoners,  and 
relieve  them  of  those  heavy  chains." 

"  Go,  Julia  ;  it  is  worthy  of  you  to  give  happiness. 
I  invest  you  with  my  authority." 

"  Your  words  restore  me  to  happiness." 
She  arose,  and  flew  like  an  arrow,  followed  by  a 
crowd  of  young  girls,  who  were  influenced  by  her  ex- 
ample, and  participated  in  her  noble  sentiments.  She 
organized  succors,  and  soon  after  the  fetters  fell  from 
the  arms  of  the  captives,  and  they  were  comfortably 
clothed.  The  sick,  who  had  been  extended  on  the 
grass,  were  placed  in  warm  beds ;  their  wounds  were 
no  longer  covered  with  blood,  but  washed  and  dressed. 
Smiles,  to  which  they  had  long  been  strangers,  again 
appeared  on  the  lips  of  the  Abazes. 


PAUL    AND    JULIA. 


CHAPTER    V. 


COXTEKSATION    OF    JULIA   WITH   A    PE1SOXER. 

T  a  short  distance,  a  pris- 
oner, covered  with  rags, 
and  his  face  hid  in  his 
hands,  was  seated  immova- 
ble on  a  stone.  No  one 
sympathized  in  his  sor- 
rows ;  even  his  fellow  pris- 
oners did  not  regard  him 
as  a  companion  in  exile, 
for  he  was  cast  outside  of 
their  ranks.  The  daugh- 
ter of  Isram  observed  and 
hurriedly  approached  him. 
His  destitution  touched 
her,  and  his  forsaken  con- 
dition interested  her.  She 
softly  lifted  his  head,  but 
atarted  back  in  surprise.  The  power  of  his  look  and 
the  nobleness  of  his  traits  revealed  a  distinguished 
birth.  The  furrows  on  his'  brow,  the  pallor  of  his 
cheeks,  and  the  cold  but  energetic  expression  of  his 
features,  told  that  he  was  a  great  victim  of  adversity. 
She  could  but  admire  his  large  black  eyes,  his  teeth 
white  as  ivory,  and  his  long  beard,  black  as  ebony, 
which  fell  upon  his  breast. 


26  PAVI.  AND  JULIA. 

"  Noble  captive,"  said  she,  "  let  me  relieve  you  of 
these  chains." 

At  these  words,  large  tears  rolled  from  his  eyes  ;  he 
addressed  to  Heaven  one  of  those  mute  but  burning 
apostrophes,  one  of  those  expressions  which  the  Di- 
vinity loves  —  "  Messenger  of  the  Eternal,  in  whose 
cause  I  labor,  tell  me  the  name  of  this  angel,  who 
comes  to  liberate  me." 

"  I  am  not  an  angel,"  replied  Julia ;  "  I  am  the 
granddaughter  of  Isram,  the  chief  of  the  Ossetes." 

"  If  you  are  not  an  angel  of  heaven,  you  are  one  of 
those  whom  God  sometimes  grants  to  the  earth ;  for 
who  but  an  angel  would  visit  a  prisoner  whom  even 
the  Helots  repulse  as  a  Pariah  1  " 

"  God  did  not  create  you  for  slavery.  Tell  me  the 
country  of  your  birth,  the  name  of  your  father,  and 
that  by  which  you  were  called  in  infancy." 

"  My  country  is  too  far  distant  for  you  to  know  it ; 
the  name  of  my  father  would  also  be  unknown  to  you ; 
but  I  remember,  when  playing  upon  his  knees,  he 
called  me  the  young  Paul." 

**  What  unlucky  fate  has  thrown  you  with  this  bar- 
barous people,  so  far  from  your  kindred  ?  What  evil 
genius  has  heaped  upon  you  such  severity  ?  " 

"  A  good  God ;  "  and,  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  he  said 
in  a  low  voice,  "  He  gives  to  the  lily  its  whiteness,  to 
the  lamb  its  nourishment,  and  to  me,  who  love  him — 

I  stop  and  adore ."  Then,  glancing  at  Julia,  he 

added,  "  Yes,  a  good  God." 

"  Ah,  if  you  were  a  Christian  !  " 

"  I  am  a  Christian." 


PAUL  AND  JULIA.  27 

A  mysterious  expression  suffused  his  countenance ; 
he  fell  into  a  deep  revery;  his  limbs  trembled;  his 
respiration  became  deep  and  labored ;  and  his  bosonx 
heaved  under  the  weight  which  oppressed  it. 

Julia,  unable  longer  to  restrain  her  emotions,  stooped 
to  disengage  his  chains,  washed  them  with  her  tears, 
and  in  a  celestial  voice  addressed  him  in  these  words  :  — 

"  Interesting  captive,  how  unhappy  am  I  to  have 
created  in  your  soul  such  painful  sensations,  or,  rather, 
to  have  revived  such  vivid  regrets  !  Ah,  if  you  wish  a 
heart  in  which  to  pour  the  fulness  of  yours,  mine  i» 
open  to  you.  Courage,  then  !  " 

"  Dost  thou  speak  of  courage,  daughter  of  Isram  ? 
I  have  already  a  superabundance.  I  am  still  young ; 
but  already  a  wanderer  disgusted  with  the  voyage  of 
life.  Yet  I  die  not.  I  feel  that  I  love  God  and  man- 
kind. But  at  the  word  Christian,  all  my  past  life,  with 
its  bitterness,  crowds  my  memory,  and  my  frame  trem- 
bles. You  wish  me  to  relate  my  sorrows  ;  but  I  could 
scarcely  commence  the  recital  before  the  Lesguis  would 
roll  again  their  tents,  and  drive  me  before  them  as  a 
slay*.  Then  I  should  leave  you ;  and,  in  having  dis- 
engaged my  hands  for  a  few  hours,  sympathized  in  my 
grief,  you  will  have  bound  my  soul  in  a  heavy  and  hard 
chain  —  that  of  remembrance." 

"Young  captive,  I  can  liberate  you.  On  these 
mountains  you  will  find  a  second  home ;  in  Julia  a 
sister,  in  Isram  a  father." 

"  Ah !  compassionate  girl,  your  words  have  filled 
my  soul  with  both  sadness  and  joy." 

**  Why  does  such  an  offer  sadden  you  ?  " 


28  PAUL   AND  JULIA. 

"  0  God,  why  cannot  I  receive  my  liberty  upon 
suet  sweet  conditions?  Why  does  a  sacred  barrier 
forbid  it  ? " 

"  A  sacred  barrier  forbid  it !  Reveal  this  mystery 
to  her  who  would  be  your  liberator." 

Paul  was  about  to  speak,  when  Julia  observed  that 
the  young  Karem,  who  had  been  surveying  the  tents  of 
the  Lesguis,  approached  her.  "  Dear  captive,"  said 
she,  "  have  confidence."  She  then  left  him. 


PAUL   AND    JULIA. 


29 


CHAPTER    VI. 

•WAKEFULNESS    OF    A    PBISONEK. 

moon  was  silently  sink- 
ing in  the  west ;  her  pale 
rays,  gliding  through  the  fo- 
liage, rested  upon  the  green- 
sward. By  her  clear  light 
were  seen,  in  the  distance, 
gigantic  pines,  whose  shad- 
ows, like  dark  phantoms, 
bordered  the  top  of  an  ab- 
rupt declivity.  Light  clouds 
were  floating  above  their 
heads  ;  being  driven  by  the 
wind,  they  formed  a  mov- 
ing curtain,  behind  which 
the  mountains  seemed  to 
fly.  In  other  parts  the 
heavens  were  serene,  and, 
under  their  azure  dome,  the  points  of  rock  were  discern- 
ible, traced  in  irregular  festoons.  Here,  a  block  was  cut 
in  girandole  ;  there,  a  spire  pierced  the  clouds  ;  and  else- 
where, a  colossal  column  was  inclined  as  a  man  pray- 
ing. On  another  side,  projecting  angles  and  a  wide  gap 
resembled  the  mouth  of  a  Chimoera  ;  and  farther  down, 
a  vast  opening  seemed  to  disclose  the  lowest  depths  of 
the  mountain. 

To  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  each  of  these  ob- 
3* 


30  PAUL  AND   JULIA. 

jects  were  monumental  or  symbolical.  One  represented 
a  mosque,  the  other  a  minaret.  One  reminded  them 
of  Mahomet  praying,  the  other  this  prophet  retiring 
from  the  society  of  men  to  a  solitary  grotto,  commun- 
ing with  the  Most  High,  and  receiving  the  sublime 
revelation  contained  in  the  Koran.  To  each  they  had 
given  a  name. 

Quiet  was  the  scene  in  the  valley.'  No  lowing  of 
flocks  was  heard ;  men  forgot  their  cares  in  the  arms 
of  sleep ;  even  the  flowers  of  the  fields  had  shut  their 
petals  in  repose.  Nothing  was  heard  but  the  moan- 
ing of  the  winds  through  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
the  fall  of  the  cascades  upon  the  rocks,  the  rushing 
of  the  torrents,  and  the  murmur  of  the  brooks  seeking 
the  prairie. 

Only  two  living  beings  animated  the  scene  —  the 
nightingale,  which,  hid  in  the  branches,  from  time  ti» 
time  made  the  air  vibrate  with  its  solemn  and  sonorous 
voice,  with  its  pleasing  modulations,  and  its  harmoni- 
ous accents,  and  the  captive,  whom  Julia  had  left 
seated  on  a  stone.  The  one  proclaimed  his  joy,  the 
other  recounted  in  a  low  tone  his  sufferings ;  the  one 
warbled  his  love,  the  other  indulged  his  grief. 

"  Happy  child  of  nature,"  murmured  the  prisoner, 
"  the  heavens  and  the  earth  are  thy  domain,  the  uni- 
verse thy  country.  O,  sing  thy  freedom  !  At  the  first 
dawn  of  day  thou  takest  thy  flight,  and  floatest  softly 
on  the  air.  Wandering  in  the  immense  plains,  thou 
fmdcst  pdture.  If  scorched  by  the  burning  rays  of 
the  sun,  thou  descendest  to  the  shade,  and  there  mak- 
est  choice  of  thy  food,  although  thou  neither  sowest 
nor  reapest.  Thou  formest  thy  resting-place  in  the 


PAUL   AND    JULIA.  31 

thickest  foliage,  lovest  and  rearest  thy  little  ones,  and 
in  melodious  accents  makest  known  thy  happiness. 
Those  whom  Providence  has  given  thee  for  brothers 
never  mar  thy  pleasures,  are  not  jealous  of  thy  plu- 
mage, never  dispute  with  thee  the  sprigs  of  grass  with 
which  thou  fashionest  thy  nest,  never  rob  thee  of  the 
grains  which  thou  gatherest  in  the  fields ;  thou  and 
thy  fellow-beings  live  like  children  of  one  family,  and 
are  happy  because  you  love  each  other ;  ambition  has 
never  engendered  tyrants  among  you. 

"  God  created  me  free  as  thou,  and  endowed  me  with 
a  sublime  soul,  for  it  was  from  my  first  parents  that 
thou  receivedst  a  name.  But  my  brothers  have  pierced 
me  with  wounds,  and  loaded  me  with  chains.  O 
God,  why  not  send  an  angel  to  deliver  me  as  thou 
didst  to  Peter  in  captivity  ?  " 

"  I  am  that  angel,"  said  a  sweet  voice. 

And  the  prisoner  heard  a  rustling  of  garments  on 
the  grass. 

"  Put  on  these  light  shoes  —  throw  this  mantle  over 
your  shoulders  —  keep  silence.  Let  us  fly." 


32  PAtTL    AND    JULIA. 


C-H  AFTER    VII. 

THE     LESGT7IS    LEAVE     THE     VALLEY.  THE    OSSETES 

INTEND     TO   ATTACK     THEM. JULIA    HAS     DISAF*- 

PEAKED. EXPLANATION. 

NE  morning  the  trum- 
pet of  departure  sounded 
among  the  Lesguis.  After 
exchanging'  presents  with 
their  hospitable  friends, 
they  took  with  j  oy  the  road 
leading  to  their  own  coun- 
try. They  reached  the  top 
of  the  mountain,  and  were  descending  the  opposite  side, 
•when,  suddenly,  they  heard  the  trampling  of  horses 
and  vociferated  outcries  of  fury,  and  they  saw  an  army 
crowning  the  summit  of  the  mountain.  It  was  the 
Ossetes. 

"  Let  their  blood  redden  the  torrents  !  "  And  the 
sound  was  reechoed  on  all  sides.  "  Let  their  carcasses 
fatten  the  earth  !  Let  the  vultures  tear  their  flesh  !  Let 
the  wolves  gnaw  their  bones.  They  have  abused  our 
hospitality  ! " 

"  To  arms  !  "  cried  the  Lesguis  ;  "  the  Ossetes  are 
traitors.  They  gave  us  hospitality  the  more  surely 
to  surprise  us.  They  wish  to  slaughter  us,  and  enrich 
themselves  with  our  spoils.  To  arms  ! "  And  they 
formed  their  lines  for  battle. 

Several   captains   descended    the    mountain,   theu 


PAtTI.    AND    JULIA.  33 

eyes  flashing  with  indignation,  their  mouths  foaming 
with  rage,  and  their  hearts  thirsting  for  vengeance. 
Karem  presented  himself  calm  and  fearless. 

"  Chief  of  the  Lesguis,"  said  the  captains,  "  you 
are  an  ungrateful  people." 

"We  an  ungrateful  people!     Explain  yourselves." 

"  Yes  ;  yourself,  your  son,  and  your  tribe." 

"  Please  explain  yourselves  !  " 

"  Have  you  been  heartily  received  among  us  ?  " 

"  Yes,  as  brothers." 

"  Have  you  not  partaken  of  our  cottages,  our  chases, 
our  banquets,  our  sports,  and  all  our  rejoicings  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  our  hearts  will  keep  for  you  a  lasting 
gratitude." 

"  A  lasting  gratitude  !     And  yet " 

"  What  ?  " 

"  Isram  invited  you  to  share  his  fireside,  you  and 
your  son  ;  and  you  have  stained  it." 

"  My  son  and  I  have  stained  the  fireside  of  Isram  ! 
If  I  would  forget  your  kindness,  and  would  yield  only 
to  my  indignation !  "  Saying  so,  Karem  involun- 
tarily seized  his  sword. 

At  that  sign,  the  tribes  ranged  for  the  battle. 

"You  have  injured  us." 

"  By  what  crime  ?  " 

"  You  know  it." 

"  I  do  not." 

"  By  dishonoring  Isram." 

"  We  have  dishonored  Isram !  Isram,  who  pos- 
sesses our  veneration,  gratitude,  and  love  !  vVe  would 
shed  for  him  all  our  blood  !  But,  in  fine,  ho*ten.  By 
what  crime  have  we  dishonored  Isram  ? " 


34  PAUL   AKD   JULIA. 

"By  the  crime  of  the  seducers.  Would  you  wit- 
ness his  affliction !  " 

"  Which  woman  have  we  ravished  ?  " 

"  His  daughter.'' 

On  these  words  Karem  turned  pale  ;  his  features 
expressed  stupor  and  sorrow. 

"  Great  God  !     They  have  ravished  Julia  ?  " 

"  It  is  said  that  your  son  is  culpable." 

"  Would  it  be  true  !  " 

He  calls  for  the  young  Karem. 

"  My  son,  you  are  accused  of  having  ravished  Isram's 
daughter." 

"I?" 

His  face  expressed  indignation  ;  his  eyes  became 
fiery. 

"  I  ravished  the  daughter  of  Isram  ?  At  this  idea 
the  blood  boils  in  my  veins.  I  tremble  with  horror !  " 
and  turning  to  the  captains,  — 

"  Are  you  my  accusers  ?  " 

"  All  our  tribe.  You  loved  her,  and  she  has  disap- 
peared." 

"  I  did  not  see  her.  Even  in  leaving  the  valley,  I 
looked  for  her,  —  alas  !  in  vain,  —  to  bid  her  a  last 
and  too  cruel  adieu.  When  did  she  disappear  ?  " 

«'  During  the  night ;  and  you  alone  and  your  father 
were  in  the  house  of  Isram." 

"  I  am  not  guilty  of  this  crime.  My  father  and  all 
our  tribe  can  certify  my  innocence." 

"  I  believe  that  my  son  is  not  the  ravisher.  But  let 
us  inquire  together,  and  if  in  our  camp  we  find  him, 
let  Isram  require  from  us  a  just  satisfaction ;  we  will 
put  ourselves  in  his  hands." 


PATJL   AND   JULIA.  35 

The  Ossetes,  who  for  many  hours  waited  far  an 
answer,  trampled  with  impatience  and  fury. 

"  They  will  not  deliver  Julia,"  the  soldiers  vocifer- 
ated ;  "  they  have  concealed  her.  Our  captains  do  not 
return.  They  have  murdered  them." 

Their  indignation  swelled  as  the  waves  of  a  tem- 
pestuous sea.  The  chiefs  being  unable  to  restrain  their 
violence,  they  rushed  against  the  Lesguis.  Their  glit- 
tering swords  were  crossed,  when  Karem  and  the  cap- 
tains threw  themselves  between  the  combatants,  cry- 
ing, "  Desist." 

At  that  moment,  two  men  presented  themselves,  and 
asked  to  communicate  some  important  intelligence  to 
the  chief. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  demanded  he. 

"  Ossetes  hunters." 

"  Whence  come  you  ?  " 

"  From  a  distant  chase.  Being  informed  that  Isram's 
daughter  had  been  carried  off,  and  that  a  bloody  war 
was  about  to  ensue  between  the  tribes,  we  have  come 
to  inform  you,  that  last  night,  in  the  forest,  we  saw 
something  like  dark  shadows  passing  in  the  road,  and 
heard,  a  moment  after,  a  rustling  in  the  leaves." 

"  In  what  road  ?  in  what  forest  ?  " 

"  In  the  mountain,  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley." 

"  Sheathe  your  swords,"  exclaimed  Karem  and  the 
captains.  "  We  will  not  take  food  until  we  have  pierced 
the  heart  of  this  ravisher,  and  taken  Julia  back  to  her 
father." 


56 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


SCENE  IN  A  GROTTO  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

T  a  retired  spot,  in  tho  thick- 
est part  of  the  wood,  is  a  deep 
cave :  a  large  gate  closes  the 
entrance.  Above  are  immense 
rocks,  covered  by  lofty,  taper- 
ing pines,  seeming  to  form 
conical  stairs,  which  penetrate 
the  clouds.  The  ivy,  with  its 
numerous  tendrils,  covers  the 
surface  of  the  grotto,  and 
twines  in  festoons  around  the 
flowing  cytisus.  The  stocks 
of  the  virgin  vine  extend  their 
knotty  twigs ;  the  eglantine 
and  an  infinite  variety  of  small  shrubs  grow  under  the 
branches.  The  white  daisy  and  the  modest  violet 
serve  as  a  resting-place  for  the  convolvulus,  whoso 
endless  creeping  stems  form  a  network  covered  with 
wild  flowers.  At  a  short  distance  is  a  green  square, 
surrounded  by  a  wooden  trellis  raised  waist  high,  en- 
closing two  tombs.  Within  the  enclosure  are  grassy 
tnolls,  artistically  arranged,  bordered  by  ever-bloom- 
ing flowers ;  among  which  the  heart's  ease,  emblem  of 
death,  and  other  mourning  flowers  of  purple  hue.  At 
the  foot  of  these  tombs  grow  two  cypresses  of  different 
ages,  and,  near  them,  a  weeping  willow,  whose  long, 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  37 

green  branches  float  in  disorder.  Outside  of  this  en- 
closure is  seen  tne  fire  tree  with  its  crimson  plumes 
waving  gracefully  in  the  air.  In  the  wide  extent  are 
oaks  ancient  as  the  world,  shading  with  their  many 
branches  the  small  pliant  shrubs  and  creeping  briers ; 
the  blindweed,  whose  numerous  fibres  pierce  the  tufts 
of  moss  which  grow  upon  their  trunks,  derive  froir 
them  support,  partake  of  their  existence,  and  die  upoi 
their  bosoms. 

At  a  short  distance  was  a  young  man,  with  wan  and 
pallid  countenance,  reclining  upon  a  bench  formed  of 
boards,  and  supported  by  two  posts  driven  in  the 
ground.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  slight  noise,  and  a  glim- 
mering light  in  the  grotto  attracted  his  attention.  It 
was  a  young  girl,  who  had  kindled  a  sepulchral  lamp. 
She  went  out  hurriedly,  and  gathered  from  the  rocks 
and  trunks  of  the  trees  a  pile  of  dry  lichen  and  moss, 
spread  it  upon  the  ground,  and  covered  it  with  dry 
leaves,  which  had  accumulated  there  during  the  autumn. 
Then  she  assisted  the  young  man,  and  conducted  him 
to  this  place  of  repose  ;  washed  his  wounds  with  limpid 
water  ;  and  from  a  light  basket,  which  she  had  woven 
of  the  finest  straw,  she  took  an  odoriferous  balsam, 
spread  it  upon  his  wounds,  and  bound  them  up  with 
soft  bandages.  To  protect  him  from  the  cold,  she 
threw  over  him  a  large  mantle,  which  covered  him  com- 
pletely ;  then  seated  herself  upon  a  projecting  rock. 
Her  ingenuous  air,  the  frankness  and  innocence  of  her 
looks,  the  calm  and  melancholy  pleasure  which  over- 
spread her  countenance,  all  in  her  that  breathed  of 
modesty,  showed  that  she  tasted  that  happiness  whim 
the  just  experience  in  the  performance  of  good  actions 
4 


23  PAUL   A.ND   JULIA. 

that  felicity  which  fills  the  bosoms  of  those  blessed 
souls  created  for  virtue,  and  to  bestow  happiness.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  this  unfortunate,  extended  upon 
this  rude  couch,  without  motion,  or  power  to  express 
his  gratitude.  She  said  to  him,  with  a  sweet,  celestial 
smile,  — 

"  Alas !  unhappy  captive,  I  am  at  a  loss  for  words 
of  consolation  to  soothe  your  sufferings." 

It  was  Julia  speaking  to  Paul.  He  did  not  reply ; 
for  they  had  in  their  flight  taken  circuitous  paths, 
walked  almost  all  night,  and  he  was  scarcely  able  to 
reach  this  retreat.  He  was  completely  exhausted,  and 
insensible  to  every  thing  but  his  misery. 

When  the  first  dawn  of  morning  appeared,  and  Julia 
had  supplied  the  wants  of  Paul,  she  arose  to  leave,  and 
return  unperceived  to  the  paternal  roof.  Starting  out 
of  the  cave  she  heard  a  great  noise.  The  gate  opened, 
and  a  crowd  of  men  entered  hastily.  By  the  light  of  a 
flambeau,  she  perceived  the  young  Karem.  Terrified, 
she  shrieked. 

**  What !  Julia !  Here  is  the  ravisher  !  And  he  is 
one  of  the  prisoners !  Let  him  die  ! " 

He  raised  his  sword.  Julia  precipitated  herself 
before  him,  crying,  "  Mercy !  he  is  innocent."  She 
caught  the  arm  of  Karem,  and  fell  senseless  upon  the 
earth. 


PAUL   AN»   JULIA. 


39 


CHAPTER    IX. 


SCENE    BETWEEN    KAREM   AND    ISBAM. 

HORSEMAN  was  dismounting  be- 
fore the  cottage  of  Isram. 
"  Isram !     Isram  !  " 
"  Karem !  and  my  daughter ! " 
"  She  will  soon  be  restored  to 
your  love." 

"  Where  was  she  ?  " 
"  In    a    grotto,    amidst     thick 
woods." 

"  Near  a  graveyard  ?  " 
"Yes;    I    have     seen     several 
tombs." 

"  What !  during  the  night  ?   Did 
she  pray  ?  " 
"  No." 

"Was  she  alone?" 
"  No." 
"  Speak,  Karem." 

"With  her " 

"  O,  finish ! " 

"  Forgive,  Isram ;  my  son  is  not  the  ravisher ;  my 

tribe  is  not  guilty ;  but " 

"  Explain  yourself,  Karem." 

"Alas!" 

"  O,  speak,  Karem ! " 

"  She  was  with  one  of  our  prisoners."     And  a  dark 


40  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

anxiety,  a  deep  affliction,  were  painted  on  the  face  of 
Isram. 

"  Great  God  ! "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  would  she  have 
stained  my  white  hair  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not,"  responded  Karem ;  "  he  was  lying 
on  a  couch  when  I  saw  the  poniard  of  my  son  directed 
to  his  breast." 

"  And  my  daughter ! " 


PAUL    AXD    JtTLIA. 


41 


CHAPTER    X. 


EVENTS    IX    THE    GKOTTO. 


HE  tribes  were  plunged 
in  the  deepest  consterna- 
tion. The  people  talked 
to  each  other  of  her 
with  sorrow ;  they  did 
not  dare  inquire  about 
Julia.  They  whispered 
to  each  other,  — 

"  What !  the  angel 
of  virtue  !  the  virgin  of 
the  valley  !  the  conso- 
lation and  glory  of  her 
grandfather ! " 
Isram  and  Karem  coming,  the  crowd  drew  back 
with  a  mournful  silence.  They  entered  into  the  grotto, 
and  saw  the  young  Karem,  who  bore  on  his  arms 
Julia  fainting.  The  face  of  the  old  man  turned  pale, 
and  his  lips  became  tremulous ;  big  tears  fell  from 
his  eyes. 

"  What,  Julia  !  " 

"  Ah !  my  grandfather." 

"  Speak." 

"  I  have  been  a  victim " 

"  Of  this  ravisher,"  sighed  the  yoang  Karem ;  and 
with  a  fiery  glance  he  lifted  his  poniard  over  his  head. 

"  Mercy  —  he  is  innocent " 

4* 


f2  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

"  Speak,  Julia." 

"  I  alone  am  guilty." 

"  Great  God  ! " 

"  He  is  as  pure  as  the  sky,  and  my  virginity  is  as 
tvhite  as  the  feather  of  the  swan." 

"  I  thank  God." 

"  Karem,  plunge  your  sword  into  my  bosom ;  I  have 
violated  the  laws  of  hospitality." 

"  What !  my  daughter  ! " 

"  I  saw  a  prisoner  who  spoke  the  language  of  the 
Greeks  ;  he  was  not  an  Abaze.  I  believed  he  was  un- 
justly fettered,  and  was  about  to  die ;  then  I  resolved 
to  give  him  liberty  and  life.  Look  at  him,  dying  on 
this  poor  couch.  Kill  me,  Karem,  but  spare  his  days. 
Listen  to  the  granddaughter  of  Isram,  who,  on  her 
knees,  supplicates  you,  washes  your  feet  with  her  tears, 
und  raises  towards  you  her  feeble  hands." 

And  turning  to  Isram,  she  added,  — 

"  For  a  last  favor,  O  unfortunate  grandfather !  Do 
Mot  curse  Julia.  Forgive  her  on  account  of  her  com- 
miseration for  an  unhappy  captive,  and  bless  her 
tying." 

"  O  Heaven ! " 

*'  Arise,  Julia.  For  your  sake  I  grant  life  to  this 
prisoner,  and  restore  him  to  liberty.  Why  have  you 
not  asked  his  deliverance  ?  You  had  not  to  expect  from 
me  a  refusal.  Isram,  forgive  your  daughter  as  I  for- 
give her.  She  is  not  guilty;  she  has  been  only  too 
magnanimous." 

"  Come,  dear  Julia,  and  kiss  your  grandfather." 

And  the  two  tribes  rejoiced.  The  warriors  and  the 
young  women  bore  Julia  in  triumph  to  the  valley. 


PATTL   AND   JT7LIA.  43 

Tho  people  repeated  with  enthusiasm  her  heroical 
deed,  and  shouted,  that  she  was  yet  the  virgin  of  the 
valley,  the  consolation  and  glory  of  her  grandfather. 
Not  one  uttered  a  single  word  to  charge  her  with 
temerity. 

Having  reached  the  cottages,  the  two  tribes  renewed 
their  oath  of  a  lasting  fraternity ;  and,  when  the  Les- 
guis  took  again  the  route  of  the  mountains,  the  two 
people  shouted,  "  We  are  forever  allied  and  brothers." 

A  youth  wept.  It  was  the  son  of  Karem,  who,  till 
he  reached  the  top  of  the  mountain,  turned  often,  glan- 
cing at  the  valley.  He  was  hopeless,  and  still  bore 
in  the  depth  of  his  heart  a  burning  spear. 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XI. 


VISIT    TO    THE    GROTTO    OF    THE    TOMBS. 

E  left  Paul  extended  on  his 
couch,  motionless  and  with- 
out strength.  The  sword 
had  gleamed  above  his  head ; 
he  saw  it  not.  A  touching 
scene  had  taken  place  in 
the  grotto  ;  he  heard  it  not. 
He  was  taken  on  a  litter  to 
the  house  of  Isram,  where 
he  was  momentarily  ex- 
pected to  breathe  his  last 
sigh  ;  but  the  assiduous 
cares  of  Julia  had  recalled 
him  to  life,  and  he  soon  re- 
gained his  health.  The 
agreeable  and  courteous 
manners  of  Paul,  his  modesty,  and  above  all  his  noble 
sentiments,  excited  in  Isram  a  warm  interest  for  his 
misfortunes.  Indeed,  all  the  tribe  sympathized  with 
him,  and  did  not  wish  him  to  leave  the  valley 

On  one  occasion,  Julia  requested  him  to  accompany 
her  to  the  Grotto  of  the  Tombs,  (which,  since,  the  Os- 
setes  called  the  Grotto  of  Refuge.)  "  I  wish  to  pray  neat 
the  ashes  of  my  father,"  said  she.  They  departed ; 
and  as  they  went,  Julia  recounted  to  him  the  sad  inci 


PAUL  AND  JULIA.  45 

dents  attending  his  deliverance.  After  the  recital, 
which  deeply  moved  him,  he  said  to  her, — 

"  Why  did  you  not  leave  me  in  chains  ?  Dying 
a  captive  would  have  been  for  me  far  preferable  to  a 
bitter  existence.  Then  you  would  have  been  an  angel 
sent  by  God  to  guide  me  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  I 
would  not  have  caused  you  so  much  trouble." 

"  Have  confidence,  Paul.  Providence  will  guard  5  ou. 
I  am  compensated  for  my  sufferings  by  having  given 
you  life  and  liberty." 

"  How  could  you  sacrifice  your  repose,  and  confide 
your  honor  to  a  stranger,  an  abandoned  of  God,  the 
outcast  of  a  barbarous  people  ?  " 

"  Because  I  read  in  your  face  what  had  been  wm- 
tcn  by  the  Eternal  —  nobleness  of  soul,  elevation  of 
thoughts,  and  magnanimity  of  sentiments.  O,  say  not 
you  are  an  abandoned  of  God !  Did  not  Christ  sweat 
drops  of  blood  in  the  Garden  of  Olives  ?  Did  he  not 
exhaust  to  the  dregs  the  cup  of  gall  and  wormwood  ? 
Yet  a  voice  from  heaven  proclaimed  him  the  beloved  of 
nis  Father." 

At  these  words  the  face  of  Paul  brightened,  and  he 
seemed  happy. 

"  Your  mouth,  daughter  of  Isram,  exhales  consola- 
tion as  the  flower  its  perfume  ;  but  your  lips  are  too 
flattering  when  they  give  praise.  I  know  the  disci- 
ple is  not  above  his  master.  Although  my  body  is 
pressed  by  suffering  as  the  iron  by  the  vice  of  the  me- 
chanic —  my  soul  beaten  by  adversity  as  the  cloth  by 
the  fuller's  hammer  —  I  have  not  to  complain.  Did  not 
the  heavens  hear  the  Savior  in  uttering  these  sad 
words  ?  '  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  take  away  this  cup 


46  rAUL  AND   JULIA. 

from  me.  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  unto 
death..'  Then  angels  came  and  ministered  to  him. 
Have  I  not  an  angel  before  me,  who  raised  me  up  when 
I  was  without  hope,  rescued  me  from  servitude,  and 
gives  me  now  that  nectar  of  which  I  had  not  hoped  to 
drink  but  at  the  table  of  the  elect  ?  O,  how  much  I 
desire  to  know  how  you  formed  the  plan  of  my  deliver- 
ance !  What  inspired  you  with  such  generous  de- 
votion?" 

"  I  will  relate  it  to  you,  grateful  Paul. 

"  The  sight  of  your  misfortunes  touched  my  heart,  and 
immediately  I  conceived  the  design  of  liberating  you. 
On  beholding  you,  I  said,  '  This  young  captive  has  not 
always  lived  in  these  mountains  ;  a  woman  of  the  lit- 
tle Abazie  has  not  given  him  life  ;  but  a  lady  of  Euro- 
pean birth,  in  rich  attire  and  flowing  robe,  has  im- 
printed the  first  kiss  upon  his  lips,  and  received  his 
first  sigh.  All  in  him  shows  that  he  is  the  child  of  the 
city.'  When  you  addressed  me  in  the  language  of  the 
Greeks,  which  Isram  was  taught  by  his  mother  in  in- 
fancy, but  has  never  forgotten,  and  by  his  assiduous 
teaching  made  familiar  to  me,  I  thought  that  you,  per- 
haps, were  a  native  of  the  same  clime ;  that  by  some 
great  misfortune  you  had  been  thrown  among  the  Abazes, 
and  by  a  still  greater  one  you  had  been  made  prisoner. 
I  felt  within  me  the  inspiration  as  it  were  of  an  in- 
visible being,  and  yielded  to  the  attraction  which  was 
seconded  by  my  own  heart." 

A  blush  suffused  the  face  of  Julia.  She  then  added, 
"  Behold,  Paul,  why  I  feared  nothing,  and  confronted  all 
obstacles  to  save  you." 


PAWL   AXD   JULIA.  47 

Julia  paused,  and  seemed  preoccupied  by  some  secret 
and  mysterious  reflections,  some  sad  recollections. 

"  But,"  said  Paul,  "  why,  alone  and  at  night,  did 
you  expose  yourself  to  so  hazardous  an  enterprise  ?  " 

"  My  slumbers  were  unquiet ;  a  strange  dream  dis- 
turbed them.  In  an  obscure  place,  I  saw  a  spectre  ad- 
vancing towards  me,  bis  feet  dragging  chains.  He 
drew  near  to  me,  and  said,  in  a  low,  sepulchral  tone, 
'  How  heavy  are  my  irons  ! '  I  tried  to  scream,  but  my 
lips  were  mute.  I  made  an  effort  to  fly,  but  my  limbs 
refused  their  office;  the  shadow  fled  away,  a  bright 
light  shone  about  me,  a  supernatural  being  appeared, 
his  head  encircled  by  a  shining  halo,  his  countenance 
celestial,  and  his  body  transparent.  From  his  gilded 
lips  fell  these  words  :  '  Fear  nothing ;  my  daughter,  do 
not  shrink  from  your  father.' 

"  I  was  frightened,  and  my  eyes  were  dazzled. 

"  '  I  inhabit  the  beatific  regions  of  the  blest,  where 
reigns  an  eternal  spring.  I  dwell  in  the  palace  of  hap- 
piness, where  hearts  never  suffer,  but  always  love. 
From  the  height  of  this  enchanted  place,  unknown  to 
mortals,  I  saw  in  this  valley  a  child  of  misery,  a  mar- 
tyr to  virtue,  whose  name  is  registered  with  the  elect. 
Immediately,  borne  on  light  wings,  I  traversed  the 
heavens,  and  came  to  tell  you,  daughter  of  Isram,  if 
you  are  worthy  of  your  father,  deliver  this  elected  of 
God  from  captivity.  The  most  favorable  moment  is 
the  hour  of  silence.' 

"  The  luminous  cloud  became  fainter  and  fainter,  until 
it  gradually  disappeared.  I  sprang  towards  my  father  ; 
but  an  invisible  hand  was  placed  upon  my  heart,  and  the 
blood  froze  in  my  veins.  I  strove  to  speak,  but  I  could 


48  PATH,   AND   JULIA. 

not.  I  made  an  effort  to  seize  him,  but  my  hands 
could  not  touch  him.  I  tried  to  weep,  but  not  a  tear 
fell  from  my  eyes.  Than,  in  an  effort  of  despair,  I  di- 
lated my  breast ;  I  drew  a  deep  sigh,  and  I  awoke 
starting.  I  was  panting  and  exhausted  by  fatigue,  aa 
a  wrestler  just  from  the  arena ;  drops  of  cold  perspira- 
tion stood  upon  my  face,  and  all  my  limbs  were  trem- 
bling. Seized  with  a  sudden  inspiration,  I  exclaimed, 
'  Yes,  my  father,  I  know  how  to  deliver  this  captive. 
I  will  do  it.  He  awaits  me.'  I  silently  left  my  couch 
and  the  paternal  roof,  and  swiftly  approached  the  tents 
of  the  Lesguis,  which  were  disposed  in  long  and  ir- 
regular lines.  Clouds  of  curling  smoke,  arising  from 
the  still  burning  cinders,  veiled  my  steps  by  their  ob- 
scurity ;  and  some  bundles  of  burning  straw,  emitting 
a  flame,  facilitated  my  examination.  By  this  dim 
light,  I  glided  to  the  tents  of  the  prisoners,  who  were 
quietly  extended  upon  the  grass  :  the  guards  and  sol- 
diers, wrapped  in  warm  furs,  slept  profoundly." 

"  Too  generous  Julia,"  said  Paul,  interrupting  her, 
*  to  what  dangers  you  were  exposed  !  " 

She  continued :  — 

"  My  restless  eyes  sought  you,  but  in  vain.  '  If  he 
»s  with  the  prisoners,'  thought  I,  '  how  can  his  flight  be 
xmcealed  ?  Perhaps  he  reposes  near  the  stone  where 
I  left  him.'  I  went  to  an  elevated  landmark  that  sepa- 
rated two  estates.  From  there  I  distinguished,  at  a 
short  distance,  something  which  appeared  to  be  the 
trunk  of  a  tree  overthrown  by  the  tempest.  '  That  may 
be  he,'  said  I ;  and  I  drew  near  ;  I  then  saw  you." 

"  0  Julia,  you  appeared  to  me  not  like  a  daughter 
of  earth,  but  a  virgin  who  had  passed  her  life  in  the 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  49 

relief  of  mankind ;  had  obtained  a  suspension  of  hap- 
piness to  descend  from  paradise  in  order  to  appear  to 
men  for  a  few  short  hours,  and  deliver  them  from  trials. 
God  alone  can  recompense  your  generosity.  He  alone 
can  appreciate  my  gratitude." 

Julia  and  Paul  arrived  at  the  grotto,  which  re- 
called such  painful,  yet  pleasing  recollections.  They 
knelt  in  prayer.  As  Julia  bent  over  the  grave  of  her 
father,  a  pallor  overspread  her  countenance  ;  the  smile 
faded  from  her  lips,  and  tears  flowed  from  her  eyes ; 
her  silence  was  interrupted  by  sobs.  The  sight  of 
her  grief  afflicted  Paul,  and  he  addressed  her  in  these 
words  :  — 

"Why  weep,  ray  benefactress  ?  Does  not  prayer  re- 
lieve the  heart  ?  " 

"  It  is  at  the  recollection  of  what  my  mother,  all  in 
tears,  once  said  to  me  —=- '  Dear  child,  follow  me.  I 
wish  to  visit  that  place  so  endeared  to  me.  I  want  to 
weep  and  pray.' 

"  I  accompanied  her  to  the  tomb  ;  we  knelt ;  she,  with 
a  trembling  hand,  gave  me  a  branch  of  cypress,  and  bade 
me  plant  it,  saying,  — 

"  '  My  daughter,  you  have  seen  the  trees  of  the  valley 
bloom  for  the  seventh  time  ;  your  intellect,  it  is  true, 
is  not  fully  developed,  but  your  mind  is  capable  of  re- 
taining a  deep  recollection.  During  your  life,  this 
shall  be  to  you  a  memorable  event.  The  cypress  will 
increase  in  size  ;  you  will  also  grow ;  but,  as  you  ad- 
vance in  age,  never  forget  that  where  you  planted  this 
cypress  the  ashes  of  your  father  lie.  My  days  are  not 
numerous  ;  however,  were  I  not  necessary  to  you,  my 
sorrows  would  long  since  have  cut  the  thread  of  my 
5 


50  PAUL   AXD   JULIA. 

existence.  When  my  life  shall  close,  do  not  forget  to 
bury  me  near  your  father.' 

"  She  wept  bitterly.  I  sympathized  with  her,  and  the 
roots  of  the  cypress  were  watered  by  our  tears." 

"  You  were  very  young  when  you  lost  him.  Have 
you  any  recollection  of  your  father  ?  " 

"  I  remember  when  evening  came,  and  he  suspended 
the  labors  of  the  day,  or  when,  fatigued  by  a  long  chase, 
he  returned  and  took  his  place  at  the  fireside,  I  threw 
myself  into  his  arms,  mounted  his  knees,  relieved  his 
mind,  and  gave  him  joy  by  my  caresses  and  infantile 
prattle.  He  often  said  to  my  mother,— 

"  '  How  dear  to  me  is  my  Julia  !  When  grown  up,  I 
will  conduct  her  into  the  fields,  bend  her  bow,  and  teach 
her  to  fly  the  arrow.  Together  on  the  mountains  we 
will  pursue  the  swift  deer.  Seated  at  midday  on  the 
pliant  ferns,  sheltered  by  the  foliage,  we  will  take  our 
frugal  repast.  Above  our  heads  the  forest  birds  will 
chant  their  merry  songs,  the  rippling  brook  will  roll  at 
our  feet,  from  whence  we  will  fill  our  hunter's  gourd  to 
quench  our  thirst.' 

"  But,  alas  !  he  did  not  lead  me  to  the  field ;  his  hand 
did  not  string  my  bow,  nor  teach  me  to  fly  the  arrow. 
Never  together  did  we  pursue  the  wild  deer,  nor  take 
our  repast  under  the  shade  near  the  running  brook. 
Ah,  with  what  sad  regrets  the  thought  of  my  father's 
death  fills  me !  " 

"  Julia,  your  filial  piety  is  worthy  of  admiration.  I 
comprehend  the  extent  of  your  sorrows,  by  that  which 
your  words  have  made  me  feel.  I  can  appreciate  the 
deep  affliction  your  loss  caused  you  by  the  sad  picture 
you  have  drawn,  and  my  voice  unites  with  yours  in 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  51 

saying  the  death  of  your  father  merits  unceasing  re- 
grets. But  will  you  always  remain  inconsolable  ? 
Has  not  Providence  left  you  one  whose  wisdom  guides 
your  steps  ? " 

"  Yes ;  but  can  Isram  replace  my  mother  ?  Look  at 
1  that  cypress,  which  has  scarcely  taken  root,  that  is 
planted  over  the  tomb  of  her  whose  remains  seem  still 
palpitating.  And  you  wish  me  to  be  consoled  !  Ah, 
I  think  I  still  see  that  open  grave  where  her  coffin  was 
placed,  from  which  I  was  taken  heart-broken.  I  heard, 
in  the  distance,  the  funeral  knell  and  a  dismal  sound ; 
it  was  caused  by  the  grave-digger  throwing  the  clods 
of  earth  upon  her  coffin." 

Here  sobs  choked  her  utterance,  and  her  tears  flowed 
more  abundantly. 

"  Julia,  time  heals  the  wounds  of  the  heart.  Isram 
will  give  you  in  marriage " 

Paul  pronounced  these  words  in  a  faltering  voice, 
and  did  not  dare  to  finish.  A  deep  sigh,  as  of  despair, 
betrayed  his  feeling. 

Julia,  after  a  moment  of  silence,  raised  her  eyes  to 
Paul,  then,  casting  them  down,  said,  — 

"  I  bear  in  my  heart  a  too  dear  image." 

"  Julia,  how  painful  is  memory  !  " 

Then,  silently  and  sadly  they  returned  to  the  valley, 
giving  mysterious  interchanges  on  the  way. 


FAtTI,   AND   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


PAUL    COMMENCES   AN   ACCOUNT    OF    HIS    LIFE. 

NE  of  those  beautiful  days 
of  spring,  when  the  sun 
fertilizes  the  earth  with 
his  mild  and  genial  heat, 
Isram,  Julia,  and  Paul  had 
taken  their  meal  under  the 
shade  of  some  fine  trees. 
The  more  the  old  man  and 
his  daughter  studied  Paul, 
the  more  they  wished  to 
know  of  him.  They  con- 
ducted him  to  an  elevated 
situation,  where  the  moun- 
tains were  presented  to  the 
view  like  floating  drapery. 
They  seated  themselves  on 
the  grass,  and  desired  him  to  relate  the  history  of  his 
life  and  misfortunes.  At  first,  Paul  was  moved  ;  but 
emotion  gave  place  to  assurance,  and  he  spoke  thus  :  — 
"  I  was  born  in  Greece,  of  Catholic  parents.  Basilos 
was  the  name  of  my  father.  Without  being  opulent,  he 
was  still  possessed  of  a  considerable  fortune.  He  had 
filled  many  of  the  most  important  offices ;  he  had  been 
raised  to  dignities  and  honors,  and  was  universally  re- 
spected and  esteemed  for  his  many  virtues.  A  devoted 
citizen,  he  had  sacrificed  a  part  of  his  wealth,  and  fought 


PAUL   AXD    JULIA.  53 

for  his  country,  when  generous  allied  countries  were  in 
arms  to  save  it.  A  fond  husband,  he  made  my  mother 
happy ;  a  tender  father,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  in- 
terests of  his  children.  His  talents  and  virtues  made 
him  the  glory  of  Irs  country,  the  delight  and  support 
of  his  family. 

"  When  weaned  from  my  mother's  first  cares,  he 
commenced  the  formation  of  my  mind  and  heart.  Af- 
terwards, to  superintend  better  my  education  and  in- 
struction, he  sent  me  to  an  ecclesiastical  college.  When 
I  had  finished  my  first  studies,  and  he  thought  me 
capable  of  guiding  myself  in  the  world,  he  sent  me  to 
Naples  to  complete  my  education,  to  extend  my  learn- 
ing, and  determine  by  observation  what  career  I  should 
choose  in  order  to  be  the  most  useful  to  my  country 
and  society. 

"  I  received  his  instruction^,  listened  to  the  advice 
of  my  mother,  made  my  adieus,  embraced  my  family, 
and  embarked  on  board  a  merchant  ship.  The  weather 
being  favorable,  we  reached  in  a  few  days  the  coast  of 
Naples,  which  I  was  so  often  to  explore  in  my  solitary 
rambles.  Never,  no,  never  can  I  forget  what  I  there 
experienced. 

"  Capri  was  before  us  with  its  steep  shores,  and  rich 
plains  covered  with  vines,  olives,  myrtle,  and  almond 
trees.  Ischia  and  Prosida  presented  their  gray  moun- 
tains, whose  crests  bristled  with  crags,  whose  aride  sides 
were  planted  with  many  rare  shrubs.  Before  us  ap- 
peared the  harbor,  in  the  form  of  an  immense  basin, 
filled  with  shipping,  which  brought  to  Naples,  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  the  riches  of  the  universe.  The 
neighboring  country  presented  a  beautiful  prospect. 
5* 


54  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

The  quays  and  promenades,  delineated  in  circular  lines, 
limited  the  horizon.  At  our  right,  Vesuvius  vomited 
forth  its  lurid  flame,  sometimes  veiled  by  a  column  of  " 
curling  black  smoke,  which,  blown  by  the  wind,  scat- 
tered its  cinders  like  rain  upon  our  deck.  The  lava 
gushed  from  the  crater  with  a  thundering  sound,  which 
shook  the  mountain.  The  port  was  seen  at  a  distance, 
its  many  masts  shooting  upwards.  Above  the  city,  the 
church  steeples,  palace  towers,  and  domes  of  the  mon- 
uments seemed  to  disappear  in  the  azure  of  the  sky. 
Never  had  nature  appeared  to  me  so  magnificent  and 
imposing ;  never  had  the  "industry  of  man  seemed  so 
active,  nor  the  works  of  his  hands  so  admirable. 

"  My  emotions  succeeded  each  other  like  lightning. 
Admiration  and  awe,  joy  and  sadness,  pleasure  and 
pain,  confidence  and  doubt,  contended  with  my  heart. 
A  thousand  thoughts  assailed  me  ;  and,  above  all,  I 
could  not  divest  myself  of  a  mysterious  presentiment 
which  weighed  upon  my  spirit,  that  Naples  was  to  be 
to  me  the  scene  of  some  dark  and  terrible  event ;  that 
my  life  would  be  tumultuous,  and  I  should  be  driven 
by  its  influence  as  the  cedars  of  the  mountain  by  the 
tempest.  Whilst  absorbed  by  these  reveries,  we  were 
borne  rapidly  before  the  wind,  and  in  a  few  moments 
we  entered  the  port. 

"  I  was  then  in  that  immense  city  whose  beautiful 
sky  has  given  it  the  title  of  Paradise  of  Europe.  I  saw 
a  multitude  of  men  of  different  manners  and  customs 
who  had  come  from  all  parts  of  the  world  to  pay  their 
tribute  of  admiration  to  this  the  Queen  of  Cities.  I 
wandered  in  its  streets  and  squares,  bordered  by  pal- 
aces, modest  residences,  and  hovels,  showing  the  de- 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA..  65 

plorable  proximity  of  wealth  and  poverty.  I  was 
borne  on  by  the  tide  of  population  as  it  hastily  flowed 
along.  The  poor  elbowed  the  rich,  who,  by  their  silk 
attire,  seemed  to  mock  their  tattered  dress.  The  great 
displayed  before  the  indigent  their  splendid  equipages, 
their  liveries,  and  attendants.  Carried  out  by  fleet 
steeds,  they  broke  through  the  crowd,  and  passed  like 
arrows  before  the  unfortunate,  who  envied  their  lot, 
and  walked  sorrowful.  I  heard,  from  under  the  gilded 
ceiling,  instruments  of  music  and  songs  of  joy.  It  was 
the  sound  of  the  children  of  fortune  at  splondid  festiv- 
ities, seated  around  tables  served  with  delicious  meats 
and  M-ines.  At  the  same  time,  not  daring  to  seat  him- 
self at  the  portal,  stood  a  mendicant,  begging,  in  a  trem- 
bling voice,  a  morsel  of  bread  to  appease  his  hunger, 
and  a  little  water  to  allay  his  thirst.  So  much  mag- 
nificence and  misery,  so  much  profusion  and  privation, 
so  much  pleasure  and  sorrow  at  first  saddened  me  ;  but 
being  born  in  affluence,  my  imagination  young  and 
lively,  and  my  heart  desirous  of  enjoyment,  this  sen- 
timent was  transitory.  I  shed  a  few  tears  at  the  fate 
•of  so  many  destitute  of  fortune;  but  unable  to  assist,  I 
turned  from  them. 


56 


PAUL   A2n>   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


PAUL    MEETS   WITH   A    MONK. 


"WILL  not  attempt, 
venerable  chief,  to 
give  you  the  history 
of  several  years  I 
passed  in  Naples.  It 
will  be  sufficient  to 
relate  the  events 
which  gave  another 
course  to  my  ideas, 
and  totally  changed 
my  existence. 

"  One  evening  I  re- 
ceived a  letter;  the 
seal  was  black.  Trem- 
bling I  opened  it,  and 
read  these  words  :  — 


"  '  MY  DEAK  PAUL  :  I  am  commissioned  to  give  you 
this  painful  intelligence.  Our  father  has  just  died. 
In  his  last  moments  he  called  for  you,  that  you  might 
receive  his  benediction ;  that  you  might  be  present 
at  his  last  sigh,  and  closs  his  dying  eyes.  He  expired 
with  your  name  upon  his  lips.  O,  come,  at  least,  you, 
the  eldest  son  of  the  family,  to  console  your  brothers 
and  sisters ;  to  draw  our  mother  from  her  despair. 
Your  affectionate  brother, 

JOIIK  BASILOS/ 


PAUL    AXD   JULIA.  57 

"  The  paper  dropped  from  my  hands  ;  I  felt  like  faint- 
ing. That  night  was  for  me  endless  and  cruel ;  and  I 
was  for  many  days  the  prey  of  the  deepest  sadness  and 
melancholy. 

"  One  morning  I  left  the  city,  and  went  to  the  coun- 
try around,  seeking  solitude.  I  was  for  many  hours 
•wandering  in  a  forest,  when,  yielding  to  fatigue,  I  sat 
on  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  which  had  fallen  under  the  axe 
of  the  woodman.  My  head  rested  on  my  hands ;  I 
wept.  Alas !  it  was  there  that  the  drama  of  the  last 
years  of  my  youth  closed  so  unexpectedly  ;  there  events 
occurred  which  brought  me  to  your  country.  Sud- 
denly I  felt  a  hand  on  my  shoulder.  I  raised  my  eyes, 
and  saw  a  monk,  with  austere  appearance  ;  but  his  face 
still  betrayed  marks  of  sensibility  and  kindness. 

*' '  What ! '  he  said,  '  you  weep,  young  Neapolitan. 
Though  in  the  spring  of  your  life,  you  know  suffering.' 

"  '  Yes,  reverend  father,'  I  answered. 

"  '  However,  your  age  is  the  first  step  in  life ;  life 
appears  bloomy ;  its  happiness  seems  to  be  endless. 
O,  I  should  feel  happy  if  I  was  allowed  to  relieve  you !  " 

"  '  To  relieve  me  ?     My  sorrow  is  too  deep.' 

"  '  Grant  me  leave  to  say,  that,  inexperienced  in  the 
anxieties  of  life,  you  exaggerate  their  bitterness.  You 
are  like  a  soldier  who  turns  pale  and  trembles  when 
for  the  first  time  he  meets  with  the  enemy.  You  are 
that  man  who  never  defied  danger,  and  sees  it  increas- 
ing like  a  nocturnal  ghost.' 

"  '  My  loss  is  irreparable  !  " 

"  '  Cheer  up  !  Time  heals  the  wounds  of  the  soul  as 
well  as  it  heals  those  of  the  body ;  waves  fill  the  void 
which  waves  dig ;  with  centuries  valleys  disappear ; 


58  PAUL    AND    JTTLIA. 

and  years  will  teach  you  that  life  is  a  tide  of  suffering1 
and  pleasure ;  that  the  impressions  are  blotted  out  in 
the  soul  like  the  traces  of  a  ship  on  Avater — like  the 
traces  of  clouds  in  the  sky.  However,  are  we  not  all 
children  of  the  same  family  ?  Can  we  not  aid  each 
other  in  partaking  of  our  tribulations  ? ' 

"  As  I  did  not  answer,  but  sighed  heavily,  he  went 
back,  saying,  '  Pardon  my  seeming  intrusion,  for  1 
Bee  that  you  want  solitude.' 


PAUL   AXD    JVLIA. 


59 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


SECOND    INTERVIEW    OF    PAUL    WITH    THE    MONK. 

N  the  following  day,  I  met 
the  monk  several  times  in 
my  solitary  rambles  ;  but, 
as  I  seemed  to  avoid  his 
company,  he  did  not  speak 
to  me.     On  a  certain  day, 
he  came  and  said  to  me,  — 
"  '  Young  Neapolitan,  moved  with 
your  affliction,  every  day  I  prayed  for 
you,  and  came  to  this  wood  hoping 
to  console  you.' 

"  '  Reverend  father,'  I  answered,  '  I 
thank  you.' 

"  '  Are  you  less  melancholy  ? ' 
"  '  I  still  am  inconsolable.     I  have 
not  even  a  friend  to  offer  words  of 

consolation.' 

* 

"  '  Alas  !  I  am  not  astonished.  In  society  you  will 
not  find  one.' 

"  '  I  had  many  friends,  who  partook  of  my  pleasures  ; 
but  as  soon  as  they  saw  me  in  sorrow,  they  fled  and 
forsook  me.' 

"  '  They  did  so  because  they  were  not  truly  your 
friends.  You  perhaps  have  already  noticed  that  the 
title  of  friend  is  upon  the  lips  of  all ;  yet  how  few 
intellects  appreciate  it !  and  how  few  hearts  feel  the 


60  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

obligations  which  it  imposes  upon  them !  Friendship, 
which  yet  the  Holy  Ghost  calls  a  precious  stone,  a  treas- 
ure, is  a  prostitution  in  the  mouths  of  men.  Believe 
me,  the  monks  and  the  priests  are  the  only  true  frienda 
here  below.' 

"  '  I  despair  to  find  one.' 

"  '  Yet  the  human  heart  wants  a  friend.  Christ  had 
chosen  St.  John,  whom  he  called  his  beloved  disciple. 
Young  Neapolitan,  I  know  that  you  cannot  consider 
me  as  a  friend,  for  I  am  unknown  to  you ;  still  I  am  a 
priest,  and  a  monk :  perhaps  these  titles  are  deserving 
of  your  confidence.  Trust  in  me  ;  honor  me  with  your 
friendship,  and  you  will  never  regret  it.' 

"  Venerable  chief,  my  spirits  were  so  low,  and  my 
sorrows  so  deep,  that  I  yielded  to  the  want  of  opening 
my  heart,  and  I  said  to  him,  that  one  of  my  brothers  had 
given  me  the  intelligence  of  the  death  of  my  father ; 
that  my  family  was  deeply  afflicted,  and  my  mother  in 
the  deepest  sorrow. 

"  '  Your  affliction,'  he  said,  '  is  very  natural.  By 
the  death  of  your  father,  you  have  lost  the  support  of 
your  youth,  the  counsellor  of  your  inexperience,  the  star 
which,  in  the  order  of  Providence,  was  to  guide  you  in 
life ;  but  you  ought  to  yield  to  consolation,  for  death 
is  a  tax  which  every  man  has  to  pay  to  nature.' 

" '  Of  course ;  but  I  am  so  young,  and  still  am  an 
orphan  !  Why  so  soon  has  my  father  left  this  life  ? ' 

"  '  Others  beside  you  have  to  complain.  You  are 
no  more  as  a  young  eagle  ;  you  can  fly  with  your  own 
wings.  God  has  called  back  to  himself  your  father, 
because  the  sun  of  his  virtues  had  ripened  him  for 
heaven.' 


PAUL    AND   JULIA.  61 

"  The  monk,  seeing  that  I  gave  up  to  my  sorrow, 
said  to  me, — 

"  '  I  partake  of  your  suffering,  for  I  have  driven  in 
the  thorn  which  I  fain  would  have  extracted  from  your 
heart.  By  entreating  you  to  relate  to  me  your  grief,  I 
have  caused  you  to  drink  the  bitter  water  of  a  too  fresh 
recollection.  I  have  enlarged  a  wound  whose  lips  are 
not  yet  closed  up.' 

"  '  O,'  I  answered,  '  who  can  relieve  me,  the  loss  of 
my  father  is  to  me  so  great  ?  ' 

"  '  God ;  he  is  the  Father  of  his  creatures,  and  he 
cherishes  his  children.  If  he  sends  sorrow,  he  wipes 
tears  ;  if  with  one  hand  he  wounds,  with  the  other  he 
heals.  Man  being  the  masterpiece  of  his  hands,  he 
cannot  sink  him  into  affliction,  and  let  him  struggle 
alone  in  the  bottom  of  this  gulf.  O,  no ;  for  he  has 
counted  every  single  hair  of  our  head ;  he  loves  us  more 
than  a  mother  can  love  her  child ;  he  says  so  in  the 
holy  book.  Therefore  he  will  heal  your  evils,  and  will 
drop  in  your  soul  celestial  consolations.' 

"  '  But  I  shall  never  again  see  my  father :  is  this 
thought,  which  I  shall  bear  always  till  I  die,  compat- 
ible with  consolation  ? ' 

" '  Let  me  ask  you  if  you  are  a  Christian.' 

"  '  Yes,  I  am  a  Christian,  and  a  Roman  Catholic.' 

"  '  You  ought  to  thank  God,  who  granted  you  this 
great  favor.  Is  not  your  belief  a  source  of  consolation 
for  you  ?  Every  man,  it  is  true,  has  to  die,  for  death 
is  a  punishment  of  our  first  father's  sin  ;  but  did  not 
Christ,  by  coming  again  to  life,  give  himself  as  the 
pledge  of  our  future  resurrection  ?  Did  not  God  in- 
spire the  patriarch  Job  with  this  song  of  hope:  "I 
6 


62  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

know  that  my  Redeemer  is  living,  and  that  in  the  last 
day  I  will  live  "  ?  Had  not  Martha  the  same  confi- 
dence when,  weeping  over  the  death  of  Lazarus,  she 
consoled  herself,  saying,  "  I  know  that  he  shall  rise 
again  in  the  resurrection  at  the  last  day "  ?  Your 
father,  young  friend,  will  take  on  new  life,  and  you 
will  see  him  again.' 

"  '  The  realization  of  a  hope,  though  so  doubtful  and 
so  far  distant,  could  perhaps  comfort  me ;  but  the 
thought  of  my  family  afflicted,  and  of  my  mother's 
despondency,  still  assails  my  mind.  Moreover,  who 
can  replace  my  father  ?  ' 

"  '  Here  below,  no  sorrow  is  endless.  Your  family 
and  your  mother  will,  with  time,  yield  to  consolation. 
As  for  you,  trust  in  futurity  ;  confide  in  God  ;  he  will 
give  you  a  friend  who  to  you  will  be  a  treasure.  God 
is  the  Father  of  the  orphan.  He  is  the  God  who  saved 
Moses  from  the  waves,  and  freed  Israel  from  Pharaoh's 
tyranny.  He  is  the  God  who  sent  to  Tobias  an  angel 
to  guide  him  to  Raguel's,  in  Mesopotamia.  Believe  me, 
he  will  take  care  of  you  ;  and  from  heaven  he  will 
send  to  you  a  friend  who  will  replace  your  father.' 

"  I  thanked  the  monk,  and  we  parted. 


PAUL    AXD   JULIA. 


63 


CHAPTER    XV. 


THE    MONK   QUESTIONS    PAUL.  t 

?  SRAM,  from  my  infancy,  I 
had  been  taught  that  ths 
priests  are  the  lieutenants 
of  God  on  earth ;  there- 
fore the  utterance  of  the 
monk  had  relieved  me. 
Besides,  I  wanted  so  much 
to  open  my  heart  to  some 
one,  that  a  mere  exposi- 
tion of  my  grief  would  have 
afforded  me  comfort." 

Here  Paul  turned  to  Is- 
ram  and  Julia,  saying,  — 
"  I  will  abridge  my  re- 
lation, lest  by  its  being  too 
wearisome,  I  abuse  your 
bonte." 

"  Be  not  anxious,  Paul,"  they  replied.     "  We  feel 
desirous  to  know,  with  all  their  circumstances,  your 
interviews  and  conversations  with  the  monk." 
Paul  thanked  them,  and  continued  :  — 
"  One   day,  I  went   far   from  Naples,   and  walked 
thoughtfully  along  the  sea  shore.      I  was  surprised, 
when  raising  my  eyes,  to  see  the  monk,  who  was  com- 
ing towards  me.     We  saluted  each  other,  and  the  fol- 
lowing conversation  took  place. 


64  PA  tit    AXD    JULIA. 

"  He  put  to  me  many  questions,  which  seemed  of 
the  utmost  indiscretion ;  but  he  proceeded  with  a  dex- 
terity so  great,  that  politeness,  and  my  deference  for 
his  sacerdotal  and  religious  character,  obliged  me  to 
answer. 

"  '  You,  perhaps,  are  an  Italian  r '  he  asked  me. 

"  '  No,  reverend  father,'  I  answered. 

"  '  But  you  are  a  European,  are  you  not  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  reverend  father.' 

"  '  If  it  be  not  an  impoliteness  on  my  part,  may  1 
inquire  in  what  place  you  were  born  ? ' 

"  '  In  Greece.' 

"  '  Perhaps  in  Athens  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  reverend  father." 

"  '  From  your  education  and  manners,  I  judge  that 
you  belong  to  a  rich  family.' 

"  '  Reverend  father,  you  are  not  mistaken.' 

"  '  I  am  glad  to  congratulate  you  thereon  ;  for  wealth 
is  a  great  blessing  from  Heaven.  Wealth  is  an  evident 
mark  of  the  peculiar  favor  of  God  ;  it  is  the  touchstone 
cf  wisdom  and  virtue  :  in  proof  thereof,  God  granted 
it  to  Solomon.' 

"  As  I  appeared  very  much  surprised  at  this  reflec- 
tion, he  asked  me  why. 

"  '  Because,'  I  answered,  'Jesus  Christ  has  accursed 
wealth ;  because  he  has  said,  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you, 
that  a  rich  man  shall  hardly  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
>.  eaven.  And  again  I  say  unto  you,  It  is  easier  for  a 
camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle  than  for  a  rich 
man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."  ' 

"  '  Well,  young  friend,  but  do  not  forget  that  he 
commissioned  the  priests  to  explain  his  doctrine.' 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  65 

"  This  answer  did  not  satisfy  my  mind ;  but  know- 
ing he  was  the  lieutenant  of  God,  I  did  not  reply. 

"  '  Your  father,'  he  continued,  '  held  undoubtedly  a 
high  station  in  society.' 

"  *  He  at  least  was  esteemed  for  his  virtues.' 

"  '  Had  he  been  promoted  to  dignities  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  reverend  father.' 

" '  You,  perhaps,  are  in  Naples  merely  as  a  travel- 
ler ?' 

"  '  No,  reverend  father.' 

"  '  You  are  very  young  to  live  far  from  the  paternal 
roof.  I  suppose  that  it  is  only  for  a  while ;  that 
you  do  not  intend  to  make  Naples  your  permanent 
home  ? ' 

"  '  My  father  sent  me  to  Naples  to  complete,  in  that 
city,  my  collegial  studies.  I  would  have,  after  a  while, 
gone  to  Rome,  where  I  would  have  studied  painting 
and  music  ;  thence  I  would  have  returned  home.' 

"  '  I  approve  very  much,  indeed,  of  the  views  of  your 
father.  I  congratulate  you  about  it ;  it  is  in  Naples  and 
Home,  those  so  eminently  Catholic  countries,  that  you 
can  inform  yourself  about  arts,  and  chiefly  become  initi- 
ated in  the  .true  political,  social,  and  religious  sciences. 
You  will  be  afterwards  allowed  to  be  very  influential 
for  the  triumph  of  our  holy  religion  among  your  coun- 
trymen, and  to  fill  the  honorable  offices  to  which  you 
will  be  promoted.' 

"  '  I  do  not  know  what  God  reserves  for  me,  for  the 
death  of  my  father  has  entirely  changed  my  future  pros- 
pects. Now  I  owe  myself  to  my  mother ;  and,  as  I 
am  the  eldest  among  my  brothers  and  sisters,  I  owe 
myself  to  their  education  and  instruction.' 
6* 


66  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

"  '  Did  you  attend  the  lectures  in  a  college  of  Ath 
ens?' 

"  '  No,  reverend  father ;  I  was  educated  in  a  college 
conducted  by  priests.' 

"  '  O,  I  feel  happy  with  what  you  say  !  If  you  would 
appreciate  how  valuable  is  the  favor  which  God  granted 
to  you,  your  thanks  to  him  Avould  be  endless.  The 
Holy  Ghost  alluded  to  the  laymen's  universities,  Avhen 
he  said,  by  the  mouth  of  the  holy  King  David,  "  Blessed 
is  the  man  that  walketh  not  in  the  counsel  of  the  un- 
godly, nor  standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners,  nor  sitteth 
in  the  seat  of  the  scornful."  The  universities  can  give 
only  a  worldly  science,  leading  astray  the  mind  and  cor- 
rupting the  heart.  The  priests  alone  are  commissioned 
by  God  to  educate  and  teach  youth ;  and,  as  they  are 
his  lieutenants  on  earth,  to  be  educated  and  taught  by 
them  is  to  hold  education  and  instruction  from  God 
himself.' 

"  '  As  to  me,  reverend  father,  I  have  gathered  from 
the  teaching  of  the  priests,  my  professors,  only  bad  and 
bitter  fruits.' 

"  '  My  young  friend,  I  am  astonished  at  your  say- 
ing-; explain  to  me  why,  and  in  what  manner.' 

'"  '  Because  they  have  not  initiated  mo  in  the  secrets 
of  science ;  have  given  me  only  a  superficial  knowl- 
edge, without  even  putting  in  my  hands  the  key  of  the 
sanctuary  of  learning,  without  enabling  me  to  improve 
myself  in  studying  privately.' 

" '  You  are  mistaken.  Why  would  they  have  not 
initiated  you  in  the  secrets  of  science  ? ' 

"  '  Pardon  me,  reverend  father,  if  I  say  so ;  it  is  be- 
cause they  are  ignorant  themselves.' 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  67 

"  '  Still  their  scliools  and  colleges  are  the  best.' 

"  '  They  say  so,  but  I,  unfortunately,  know  the  con- 
trary by  my  own  experience.' 

"  '  Young  friend,  though  they  could  not  teach  the 
profane  sciences,  they  should  be  praised  for  it,  because 
it  is  written  in  the  sacred  book  of  Thomas  a  Kempis, 
"  Science  makes  men  proud."  ' 

"  '  But  the  sciences  which  you  term  '•'profane"  are 
useful,  even  indispensable  in  society.' 

"  '  The  only  indispensable  science  is  that  of  the  holy 
Roman  religion.' 

"  '  Reverend  father,  suppose  it  be  so  ;  why  have  they 
stopped  the  development  of  my  intellect  ?  Why  have 
they  forbidden  me  to  use  my  reason  ?  Why  have  they 
tyrannized  over  my  heart  by  imposing  upon  it  too 
heavy  religious  practices,  and  by  restraining  all  its  law- 
ful propensities  and  feelings  ? ' 

" '  Poor  young  man,  how  blind  you  are !  The 
priests,  your  teachers,  have  stopped  the  development  of 
your  intellect,  because  science  would  have  led  you 
astray  to  perdition  ;  they  have  forbidden  you  to  use  your 
reason,  because  our  holy  and  only  true  church  does  not 
allow  the  faithful  to  think,  judge,  and  believe  for  them- 
selves, but  binds  them  to  mould  their  thoughts,  judg- 
ments, and  belief  on  those  of  the  clergy.  As  to  the 
direction  of  the  propensities  of  your  heart,  they  were 
right  in  tying  it  with  strong  bands.  Remember  that 
a  young  plant  wants  a  solid  tutor  to  grow  straight.' 

"  '  Why,  then,  have  they  misled  me  by  their  exagger- 
ations ? ' 

"  '  From  them  it  was  wisdom,  for  the  spear  attains 
the  blank  only  when  the  point  of  sight  is  raised  up. 


68  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

The  sailor  can  stem  a  river  only  in  oaring  along  the 
bank.' 

"  '  Although  I  was  young,  they  had  no  right  to  dis- 
guise the  truth,  and  to  impose  upon  me  too  onerous 
practices.' 

"  *  Believe  me,  you  are  mistaken.  I  tell  you  so  in 
the  name  of  God.  I  repeat  it ;  I  congratulate  you  for 
having  had  priests  for  teachers.  Had  they  taught  you 
only  the  practices  of  religion,  you  should  owe  to  them 
a  lasting  gratitude.' 

"  On  these  words  I  did  not  answer,  from  fear  of 
being  disrespectful  by  my  persistency.  Then  the  monk 
proceeded :  — 

"  '  Young  friend,  I  delight  in  the  thought  that  you 
were  a  faithful  practitioner  of  the  religious  principles 
which  you  have  been  taught.' 

"  '  I  have  neglected  several  practices  and  precepts  of 
the  church.' 

"  '  What !  you,  perhaps,  have  doubts  on  our  holy 
faith  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  reverend  father.  And  the  more  I  inquire 
and  reflect  about  it,  the  more  I  suspect  that  the  doc- 
trines preached  by  the  priests  are  not  contained  in  the 
gospel ;  even  are  in  many  points  opposed  to  it ;  that  the 
most  of  the  Romish  ceremonies,  prescriptions,  obser- 
vances, and  articles  of  the  creed,  are  mere  human 
institutions.' 

"  '  Great  God  !  what  a  blasphemy  !  Young  friend, 
do  you  forget  that  you  are  bound,  when  it  is  a  question 
of  our  holy  religion,  to  believe  and  obey  without  inquiry 
and  reflection  ?  Do  you  forget  that  the  clergy,  being 
the  lieutenants  of  God  on  earth,  hold  from  him  a 


PAUL  AND  JULIA.  69 

boundless  authority,  even  the  power  of  forgiving 
sins  ? ' 

"  '  This  is  what  I  have  been  taught  from  my  infancy ; 
but  my  reason,  my  conscience,  and  my  heart  rebel.' 

"  '  Unfortunate  young  man,  why  speak  of  reason, 
conscience,  and  heart  ?  Has  not  Jesus  Christ  estab- 
lished the  holy  Roman  Catholic  church  ?  Has  he  not 
empowered  it  to  impose  upon  all  Christians  a  creed 
and  laws  ? ' 

"  '  Of  course,  a  Christian  is  bound  to  admit  and 
practise  what  is  recorded  in  the  gospel ;  but  the  most 
of  the  Romish  ceremonies,  observances,  prescriptions, 
and  articles  of  the  creed,  are  opposed  to  reason,  to 
conscience,  and  to  the  feelings  of  the  heart.' 

"  '  Error !  profanation  !  impiety  !  Reason,  con- 
science, and  heart  are  mere  folly  in  matter  of  religion. 
To  think,  judge,  believe,  feel,  and  act  for  ourselves 
would  be  to  think,  judge,  believe,  feel,  and  act  like  un- 
conscious men.' 

"  '  But  God  himself  has  endowed  me  with  my  reason, 
my  conscience,  and  my  heart.  I  must  use  them  ;  I  can- 
not cast  them  away.' 

"  '  You,  it  is  true,  hold  from  God  these  faculties ; 
but  he  intends  they  shall  be  ruled  by  his  priests,  ac- 
cording to  what  he  says  in  his  gospel :  "  He  that  hear- 
eth  you  heareth  me ;  he  that  despiseth  you  despiseth 
me."  Young  friend,  you  ought  to  understand  now 
why  your  teachers  forbade  you  the  use  of  your  reason, 
and  restrained  the  propensities  of  your  heart;  you 
ought  to  understand  fully  they  were  right,  since,  in 
spite  of  their  efforts,  they  have  been  unable  to  prevent 
you  from  inquiring,  reasoning,  and  doubting  about  our 
holy  faith.' 


70  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

"  Isram,  I  remained  without  a  reply  and  thoughtful, 
for  I  was  afraid  of  offending  God  in  contradicting  his 
minister,  and  not  believing  his  word.  The  monk  pur- 
sued :  — 

"  '  Excuse,  young  friend,  the  boldness  of  my  lan- 
guage. Ah,  if  I  was  allowed  to  speak  for  your  dear- 
est interests  —  to  speak  to  you  all  my  thoughts  ! ' 

"  '  Reverend  father,'  I  answered, '  speak  freely ;  I  ap- 
preciate your  zeal  and  charity.' 

"  '  You  believe  that  the  word  of  a  priest  is  the  word 
of  God  ;  do  you  not  ? ' 

"  '  I  must ;  since  I  would  otherwise  offend  God.  But 
my  reason  rebels.' 

"  '  Listen,  then,  to  what  I  am  about  to  say.  If  you 
do  not  practise  the  ceremonies,  observances,  and  pre- 
scriptions, and  do  not  believe  all  the  articles  of  the 
creed,  which  we  priests  impose  upon  you,  God  will  ac- 
curse  you,  and  his  arm  will  chastise  you.  He,  perhaps, 
will  strike  you  with  an  early  and  sudden  death ;  and 
then  what  will  be  your  fate  ?  He  will  perhaps  permit 
that  you  spend  long  days  on  earth,  but  how  unhappy 
you  will  be  ! 

"  '  Cain  wandered,  accursed,  from  country  to  coun- 
try, from  exile  to  banishment,  bearing  every  where  the 
divine  malediction  engraved  on  his  forehead  with  a 
bronze  chisel.  You,  accursed  as  he  has  been,  —  for  dis- 
obedience to  the  priests  of  God  is  the  greatest  crime,  — 
you  will  drag  your  anathema  every  where  ;  it  will  stick 
to  you  under  all  skies.  God  will  arm  against  you 
the  visible  and  invisible  beings,  your  fellow-creatures, 
and  chiefly  yourself,  by  the  vain  thoughts  and  fool- 
ish desires  to  which  you  will  yield  —  by  the  regret 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  71 

and  remorse  which  will  besiege  you.  Has  not  the 
Holy  Ghost  said  —  which  every  day  is  realized  —  that 
peace  is  not  for  a  man  who  does  not  love  God? 

"  '  Moreover,  if  I  would  lift  one  corner  of  the  veil, 
which  hinders  our  eyes  from  seeing  the  eternal  justice, 
what  mournful  spectacle  would  strike  your  eyes !  You 
would  see  the  bottomless  abyss  which  God  has  made 
in  the  days  of  his  wrath.  You  would  see  buried  and 
consumed  in  the  flames  the  reprobate  and  their  crimes. 
You  would  see  despair,  and  the  endless  despair ;  for,  for 
many  centuries,  the  pendulum  of  the  clock  of  hell  moves, 
and  the  hand  is  still  on  the  hour  marked  Eternity. 

"  '  Do  not  say  that  after  a  while  you  will  love  God. 
He  dislikes  les  rebuts.  He  has  said  that  sinners  will 
look  for  him,  but  in  vain ;  that  they  will  die  in  their 
sins.  Nor  may  you  have  time  to  repent ;  for  he  has 
said,  "  Watch,  therefore,  for  ye  know  neither  the  day 
nor  the  hour  wherein  the  Son  of  man  cometh." 

"  '  And,  young  friend,  would  I  dare  speak  that  to  you  ? 
Your  father,  though  young,  has  been  struck  with  death. 
Reflect  on  that  event,  and  you  will  apprehend  why. 
Has  not  God  caused  the  prophet  Elias  to  die,  because 
his  son  was  a  profaner  of  the  temple  ?  By  your  doubts 
on  our  holy  faith,  by  your  desertion  of  the  prac- 
tices of  our  divine  church,  you  have  become  a  pre- 
varicator, and  God  has  punished  you  in  depriving  you 
of  your  father.  What !  it  is  you  who  have  given  death 
to  the  author  of  your  days !  It  is  you  who  have 
plunged  your  family  into  an  abyss  of  affliction,  and 
vour  mother  in  despair.  I  stop ;  I  cannot  speak  all. 
My  words  are  strong,  and  still  I  do  not  exaggerate ;  I 
have  spoken  in  the  name  of  God.' 


72  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

"  While  the  minister  of  God  was  speaking,  I  was 
motionless,  my  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground.  Fearing 
to  have  afflicted  me,  he  offered  me  his  hand,  and  ten- 
derly embraced  me.  We  both,  with  slow  steps,  re- 
turned to  the  city ;  but  his  discourse  having  made  me 
pensive  and  melancholy,  we  exchanged  but  few  words 
on  the  way.  Arriving  before  a  church,  we  stopped, 
and  he  said  to  me,  — 

"  '  I  leave  you  to  go  and  pray  for  you  and  your  fa- 
ther. My  words  were  austere,  it  is  true,  but  all  char- 
itable. I  wish  they  may  be  of  service  to  you.  If  yoii 
desire  a  heart  devoted  to  you,  a  true  friend,  and  you 
wish  to  see  me,  you  will  find  me  in  this  .temple ;  call 
for  Father  Francis.  But  I  cannot  leave  you  without 
desiring  you  to  enter  with  me  into  the  house  of  God, 
and  offer  prayers  for  yourself  and  your  father.' 

'*  The  monk  entered  the  church.  I  followed  him,  and 
knelt  in  a  retired  part  of  the  chapel.  A  priest  at  the 
same  moment  mounted  the  steps  of  the  holy  tribune, 
around  which  a  large  crowd  pressed.  I  also  drew  near 
to  listen.  The  minister  of  God  expounded  these  words 
of  Jesus  Christ :  '  For  what  is  a  man  profited,  if  he 
shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ? ' 
He  drew  in  lines  of  fire  a  picture  of  the  vengeance  of 
Heaven,  which  pursues  here  and  hereafter  the  infractors 
of  the  sacerdotal  prescriptions.  My  reason  rebelled 
at  his  sophistic  arguments ;  but  afraid  to  offend  God, 
I  repulsed  this  temptation,  and  made  efforts  to  con- 
vince myself  that  God  was  speaking  by  his  mouth. 
.  "At  length  I  was  moved,  and  my  mind  struck  — 
circumstances  which  caused  the  words  spoken  by  the 
monk  to  sink  deeper  into  my  soul.  He  finished,  and  1 


PAUL  AND   JULIA.  73 

felt  depressed  by  his  discourse,  in  the  same  manner  as 
iron  is  flattened  by  the  forger's  hammer.  I  wept  much 
and  prayed  long.  I  thought  weeping  and  praying 
would  alleviate  my  sufferings ;  but  it  was  not  so. 
When  the  church  was  deserted,  and  nothing  was  left 
but  the  lamp  burning  in  the  sanctuary,  I  ceased  pray- 
ing, and  left  the  temple. 
7 


74 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


INTERNAL    STEUGGLES    OF    PAUL. 

ENERABLE  chief,  my 
last  interview  with  the 
priest,  and  the  discourse 
to  which  I  had  listened, 
overwhelmed  me  with 
indescribable  terror,  and 
caused  me  to  examine  my- 
self. My  disordered  life 
was  pictured  to  me  in  all 
its  nakedness,  and  in- 
spired me  with  horror. 
I  immediately  formed  the 
resolution  to  return  to  my 
blind  belief  and  religious 
practices  ;  but,  all  at  once, 
the  darkness  of  night  en- 
veloped my  soul ;  phantoms  besieged  my  spirit ;  and 
dismal  thoughts  haunted  me.  Each  morning  brought 
to  me  regrets  more  violent,  remorse  more  bitter,  and 
a  perspective  more  frightful.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
God  had  taken  my  father  to  punish  me.  Believing 
myself  accursed,  I  had  always  before  me  my  miserable 
existence,  and  hell  with  its  horrid  torments.  I  buried 
myself  in  solitude,  and  there,  alone,  sustained  fierce 
conflicts.  One  voice  said  to  me,  '  Although  your  mind 
has  rebelled,  and  you  have  been  carried  away  by  vour 


PAUL   AND  JULIA.  75 

pride,  believe  the  words  of  the  monk;  listen  to  his 
counsels,  and  the  curse  of  God  will  not  dwell  upon  you.' 
Another  replied,  '  Your  sins  are  too  great  to  hope  for 
pardon ;  your  faith  is  too  feeble  to  believe  the  teach- 
ing of  the  priests.  Your  reason,  conscience,  and  heart 
rebel  at  the  practice  of  the  prescriptions  of  the  church ; 
you  can  never  observe  them.  Enjoy,  then,  the  present, 
for  the  future  is  not  yours.'  Another,  more  powerful, 
cried,  '  Seek,  wait,  hope  ;  perhaps  you  may  find  a  way 
by  which  you  may  escape  from  this  thraldom,  this 
bondage  of  the  mind.  Perhaps  some  ray  of  light  may 
stream  in  upon  your  soul,  and  lead  you  from  the  deep 
darkness  and  sorrow  in  which  your  heart  is  steeped.' 

"  Such  were  the  thoughts  which  contended  with  my 
soul.  I  deplored  my  doubts,  but  I  could  not  sacrifica 
my  reason.  I  wished  to  return,  but  recoiled  from  the 
difficulties  to  be  surmounted.  One  morning,  after  a 
night  of  wakefulness  and  struggle,  I  was  impelled  by 
an  invisible  power  towards  a  chapel  of  the  Virgin, 
situated  near  the  sea.  There  I  knelt  and  prayed  with 
fervor;  my  tears  flowed  abundantly.  Presently  ^ 
thought  I  saw  my  father  writhing  in  his  grave,  and  re- 
proaching me  with  his  death.  I  then  imagined  I  heard 
my  friends  and  my  mother  entreating  me  not  to  add 
to  their  affliction  dishonor.  I  would  then  have  re- 
turned to  my  duty,  but  the  world,  its  pleasures  and 
allurements,  presented  themselves  to  my  imagination, 
and  my  resolution  vanished.  I  struggled  again  —  tri- 
umphed —  then  fell  again ;  no  assistance  came  from 
above  to  help  me.  In  my  despair  I  left  the  chapel, 
determined  to  follow  my  reason,  and  all  the  inclina- 
tions of  my  heart. 


76 


PAUL   AND   JULIA. 


"  I  had  taken  a  solitary  path,  when,  suddenly,  I  saw 
a  picture.  The  bottom  was  black  ;  in  the  centre  were 
sombre  shadows  of  men,  agitated  and  struggling  con- 
vulsively. It  disappeared  in  a  whirlwind  ;  these  words 
remained :  The  world ;  its  passions.  They  also  dis- 
appeared. Then  I  saw  flames,  as  of  a  great  fire,  de- 
vouring victims  ;  they  vanished,  and  this  word  I  read  : 
Hell.  This  picture  also  disappeared. 

"  A  shudder  passed  over  my  body,  and  I  fell  to  the 
earth.  '  My  God,'  cried  I,  '  am  I  not  sufficiently  un- 
happy ?  Have  I  nothing  in  perspective  but  despair 
and  madness  ? '  I  advanced  a  few  steps,  when  another 
picture  appeared.  The  bottom  was  white.  A  virgin 
was  standing  with  hands  extended,  and  from  them 
issued  something  which  I  could  not  describe.  Her 
looks  were  sweet,  her  face  angelic,  and  in  a  soft  voice 
she  said  to  me,  '  Return  to  the  practice  of  religion. 
You  shall  be  an  apostle.'  Then  all  vanished.  My 
feet  failed ;  I  staggered  and  fell  upon  my  face.  After 
a  few  moments,  I  arose,  endowed  with  supernatural 
strength ;  an  indescribable  peace  reigned  in  my  soul. 

"  I  hastened  to  the  monk,  fell  at  his  feet,  confessed 
my  sins,  and  received  absolution.  *  Now,'  said  he, 
*  God  is  reconciled  to  you  ;  but  do  not  think  yourself 
secure.  He  alone  shall  be  saved  that  perseveres  to  the 
end.  The  world  is  the  dominion  of  the  devil ;  he  there 
reigns  sovereign,  by  the  concupiscence  of  the  eyes,  the 
intemperance  of  the  flesh,  and  the  pride  of  life.  His 
agents  are  innumerable ;  his  apostles  draw  almost  all 
men  near  to  his  altars,  and  prostrate  themselves  before 
his  idol.  The  small  number  of  men  who  remain  faith- 
ful to  the  practices  of  religion  live  as  if  they  lived  not : 


PAUL    AXD   JULIA.  77 

they  embrace  solitude,  and  still  can  with  difficulty 
escape  the  torrent  of  perverse  doctrine  and  bad  ex- 
ample. 

"  '  How  then  can  you  persevere  ?  Believe  me,  you 
can  only  do  so  by  being  among  society  in  body,  but 
not  in  heart ;  by  praying  constantly,  and  remembering 
that  according  to  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ,  "many 
are  called,  but  few  are  chosen."  A  frightful  truth ! 
but  the  recollection  of  it  will  be  profitable  to  you. 
You  will  persevere  chiefly  by  sitting  frequently  at  the 
holy  table,  by  eating  of  that  bread  which  maketh 
strong,  and  by  drinking  of  that  wine  which  bringeth 
forth  fruits.  In  vain  will  the  world  and  the  devil  as- 
sail you  ;  you  will  always  conquer  ;  and  Jesus  Christ  is 
my  authority,  for  he  said,  "  He  that  eateth  my  flesh, 
and  drinketh  my  blood,  dwelleth  in  me,  and  I  in  him." 
It  was  after  partaking  of  this  banquet  that  the  first 
Christians  became  like  lions  ;  braved  the  seductions  of 
the  world  ;  defied  tyrants  ;  and,  by  confessing  their 
faith,  placed  their  heads  under  the  axe  of  the  execu- 
tioner, and,  as  they  rolled  upon  the  sand  crimsoned 
with  their  blood,  gathered  a  crown  of  martyrdom. 

"  '  Remember  what  I  am  about  to  say  to  you.  The 
wicked  Jezebel  having  sworn  the  death  of  Elias,  the 
servant  of  the  Lord  fled  to  the  desert ;  being  tired,  he 
sat  under  the  shade  of  a  juniper  tree,  and  he  prayed 
God  that  he  might  die.  He  cast  himself  down  and 
slept ;  and  behold,  an  angel  of  the  Lord  touched  him, 
and  said  to  him,  "  Arise  and  eat."  He  looked,  and  be- 
hold, there  was  at  his  head  an  earth  cake  and  a  vessel 
of  water  ;  and  he  ate,  and  drank,  and  fell  asleep  again. 
And  the  angel  of  the  Lord  came  again  the  second  time, 


78  FATTL   AN»   JULIA. 

and  touched  him,  saying,  "  Arise,  eat ;  for  thou  hast 
yet  a  great  way  to  go."  And  he  arose,  and  ate,  and 
drank,  and  walked,  in  the  strength  of  that  food,  forty 
days  and  forty  nights,  to  the  mount  of  God,  Horeb. 

"  '  To  you,  whom  sufferings  oppress,  and  who  walk  in 
the  desert  of  the  world,  I  say,  in  the  name  of  God,  Eat 
and  drink,  for  you  have  yet  a  great  way  to  go.  It  is 
not  the  earth  cake  and  a  vessel  of  water  which  I  offer 
you,  but  the  body  and  blood,  soul  and  divinity,  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Frequent  this  sacred  banquet,  and  you 
will  arrive,  like  Elias,  not  to  the  mount  of  Horeb,  but 
to  the  eternal  mount  of  Paradise.  I  am  now  going  to 
celebrate  the  holy  sacrifice  ;  come,  then,  and  unite 
with  me  in  thanks  to  God  for  your  conversion.  At  my 
voice  God  will  descend  from  heaven,  and  I  will  give 
him  to  you  for  food ;  then  you  will  have  in  you  the 
pledge  of  perseverance  and  eternal  life.' 


PAUL   AND   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


UTTERANCE    OF    FATHER    FRANCIS    TO    PAUL. 


CCORDINQ   to 

the  invitation  of  Fa- 
ther Francis,  I  fol- 
lowed him,  attended 
mass,  and  took  the 
sacrament.  Since  then 
I  heard  no  more  the 
voice  of  my  reason 
and  conscience  ;  all 
my  interior  struggles 
were  over  ;  nothing 
remained  in  my  mem- 
ory but  the  sad  recol- 
lection of  my  errors ; 
nor  in  my  heart  but  regret  for  my  faults,  though  soft- 
ened by  the  assurance  of  pardon. 

"  Once  thanking  the  monk  for  what  he  had  done  for 
me,  I  spoke  of  the  elevated  position  I  would  take  in 
society ;  the  wealth  I  would  possess ;  the  services  I 
would  render  my  country ;  the  advantageous  alliance 
to  which  I  could  aspire  ;  and  the  happiness  I  would 
enjoy  in  the  world  while  working  out  my  salvation. 
I  saw  a  smile  of  doubt  delineated  on  his  lips.  I  was 
surprised,  and  inquired  the  cause. 

"  '  Yes,'  he  said,  '  surely  you  can  participate  in  the 
enjoyments  of  the  world,  and  withal  be  saved ;  but  I 


80  PAUL   AND    JULIA, 

do  not  think  you  will  experience  all  the  happiness  yon 
anticipate.  What  will  you  find  there  ?  Riches,  pleas- 
ures, honors,  love,  hymen,  and  family. 

*' '  Can  riches  produce  happiness  ?  Riches  is  but  the 
long  and  heavy  cloak,  which  heats,  encumhers,  and 
causes  the  traveller  to  fall,  when  walking  under  a  burn- 
ing sky.  It  is  as  the  fruits  of  a  shrub,  which  grows 
on  the  ruins  of  Sodom ;  a  duvet,  soft  and  of  daz- 
zling whiteness,  grows  upon  the  bark,  but  when  gath- 
ered and  pressed  in  the  hand,  a  black  dust  falls  from 
them.  Riches  do  not  nourish  the  heart,  for  the  ali- 
ment must  be  of  the  same  nature  as  the  organ  to  which 
it  assimilates ;  material  food  cannot  nourish  the  soul. 
Solomon,  whom  God  endowed  with  great  wisdom,  un- 
derstood it  well. 

"  '  He  made  great  works,  built  houses,  planted  vine- 
yards, made  gardens  and  orchards,  that  he  set  out  with 
trees  of  all  kinds.  He  had  men  servants  and  maid 
servants,  herds  of  oxen  and  flocks  of  sheep ;  he  heaped 
together  gold  and  silver,  and  the  wealth  of  kings  and 
provinces.  He  had  singing  men  and  singing  women ; 
the  wine  at  his  table  was  served  in  cups  of  gold  and 
precious  stones,  and  he  surpassed  in  riches  all  that 
were  before  him  on  the  throne  of  Jerusalem ;  still  he 
cried,  "  Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity  and  vexation 
of  spirit." 

" '  Riches  not  only  do  not  satisfy  the  desires  of  the 
human  heart,  but  they  expose  men  to  eternal  dam- 
nation. Jesus  Christ,  seeing  the  poor  weeping  and 
the  rich  rejoicing,  pronounced  this  terrible  anathema  : 
*'  Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  that  a  rich  man  shall  hardly 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  And  again,  "  It 


PATTI,    AXD    JULIA. 

is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle 
than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God." 
However,  I  must  not  exaggerate  the  meaning  of  the 
words  of  Jesus  Christ,  for,  when  the  apostles,  aston- 
ished at  the  doctrine  so  frightful  which  he  uttered, 
exclaimed,  "  Who  then  can  be  saved  ? "  he  replied, 
"  With  men  this  is  impossible ;  but  with  God  all  things 
are  possible." 

"  '  What  else  does  the  world  offer  of  happiness  ? 
Pleasure?  But  pleasure  is  a  stream  of  fire,  which 
draws  into  its  waves  all  who  play  on  its  shores ;  it  is 
that  fountain  whose  waters  are  delicious,  but  which 
conceals  in  its  bosom  the  devouring  crocodile.  In  the 
evening  it  gives  joys  ;  in  the  morning,  tears.  Pleas- 
ure affords  but  transient  enjoyments.  Has  not  Jesus 
Christ  said  to  his  disciples,  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  You  shall  weep  and  lament,  but  the  world  shall 
rejoice  ;  and  you  shall  be  sorrowful,  but  your  sorrow 
shall  be  turned  into  joy." 

"'What  does  the  world  still  offer  of  happiness? 
Honors  ?  Unite  your  fortune  to  that  of  the  great ;  in- 
asmuch as  you  serve  his  ambition,  he  will  let  fall  to 
you  a  few  crumbs  from  his  table,  thinking  that  a  suffi- 
cient recompense ;  and  when  he  mounts  another  stop 
in  the  ladder,  you  will  have  from  him  but  forgetfulness 
and  ingratitude  ;  you  will  be  as  Joseph  loft  in  irons  by 
the  great  officer  of  Pharaoh.  Attach  your  arms  and 
heart  to  the  car  of  a  king  ;  surround  him  with  fidelity 
and  love ;  raise  your  voice  to  gild  his  name  with  fas- 
cinations and  glory  :  at  first,  from  his  great  height,  he 
will  smile  upon  you ;  but  when  covered  with  sweat, 
blood,  and  dust,  you  watch  at  the  door  of  his  palace, 


82  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

he  will  renounce,  perhaps  assassinate  you,  for  the  holy 
King  David  himself  thrust  Uriah  upon  the  sword  of 
the  Philistines  to  serve  his  brutal  passions,  to  commit 
adultery. 

"  '  Sacrifice  to  your  country  your  repose,  your  liber- 
ty, your  dearest  interests  ;  let  your  blood  flow  for  her  ; 
one  day  she  will  bear  you  in  triumph,  the  next  she 
will  doom  you  to  death.  It  is  only  necessary  to  ex- 
amine the  history  of  nations  to  prove  that  it  is  but 
one  step  from  the  Capitol  to  the  Tarpeian  rock.  Should 
we  be  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  great,  we 
find  that  royalty  does  not  afford  happiness  —  elevated 
places  are  the  abode  of  trouble.  The  largest  oaks  on 
the  summit  of  the  mountain  are  shattered  by  lightning. 
A  golden  crown  covers  dark  sorrows,  gloomy  cares, 
and  frequently  imbues  the  head  with  blood,  as  a  crown 
of  thorns.  We  have  seen  in  our  own  times  thrones 
shaken  by  the  volcano  of  revolutions,  taking  fire,  being 
consumed,  and  their  ashes  blown  by  the  winds  into  the 
air.  We  have  also  seen  powerful  kings  exchanging 
their  sceptre  for  a  travelling  staff,  their  robes  of  royal- 
ty for  citizens'  dress,  and  wandering,  in  this  attire,  from 
nation  to  nation,  from  exile  to  banishment,  and  meet- 
ing at  some  humble  inn,  wherein  they  relate  to  each 
other  the  history  of  their  misfortunes.  We  have  seen 
kings,  and  families  of  kings,  buried  in  dungeons ;  de- 
prived of  the  air  which  common  men  breathe  ;  unable 
to  alleviate  their  griefs  by  mingling  their  tears ;  un- 
covering their  heads  to  the  scaffold,  there  infamously 
assassinated  ;  and,  after  this  life,  going  where  ?  God 
alone  knows  !  But  this  we  do  know  ;  hell  is  paved  with 
the  heads  of  the  great.  How  many  ministers  on  their 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  83 

death  beds  regretted  the  time  spent  in  serving  masters  ! 
How  many  kings,  at  their  last  moments,  have  wished 
that,  in  place  of  the  sceptre,  they  had  carried  the  shep- 
herd's crook ! 

"  '  What  happiness  does  the  world  offer?  Freedom? 
—  hut  freedom  is  a  dream.  God  has  constituted  kings 
and  emperors  rulers  of  the  people,  and^the  clergy  ruler 
of  all.  Love  ?  —  but  love  is  a  delirium  of  the  soul, 
which  does  not  always  continue,  and  when  the  illu- 
sion vanishes  it  leaves  a  grievous  void  in  the  soul. 
What  more  does  it  offer  ?  Hymen  ?  family  ?  But 
hymen  bows  men  to  the  earth,  and  diminishes  their 
enjoyments;  and  Jesus  Christ  has  said,  "He  that  is 
able  to  receive  it,  let  him  receive  it."  Did  he  wish 
virgins  to  marry  ?  Loved  he  not  the  blessed  John,  the 
evangelist,  who  never  married  ? 

"  '  Does  the  heart  of  woman  offer  any  enjoyment  ? 
Our  faculties  are  quickly  blunted.  Does  not  the  pos- 
session of  what  we  desire  cause  the  illusion  of  hap- 
piness to  vanish  ?  Family  ?  —  but  the  ties  of  blood 
compress  the  soul,  contract  and  circumscribe  the  heart. 
Jesus  Christ  has  also  said,  "  Whosoever  does  the  will 
of  my  Father  in  heaven,  he  is  my  mother,  my  brother, 
and  my  sister."  Also,  did  he  not  reply  to  Mary  at 
the  marriage  of  Cana,  "Woman,  what  is  that  to  me 
and  to  thee  ?  " 

"  '  The  apostles  and  the  great  philosophers,  the  illus- 
trious conquerors  and  legislators,  separated  themselves 
from  their  families.  The  love  of  family  not  only  par- 
alyzes the  soul,  but  is  a  source  of  unhappiness.  Pater- 
nity is  a  protracted  martyrdom.  A  father  shares  the 
lives  of  his  children,  and  sympathizes  in  their  suffer- 


84  PATTL    AND    JULIA. 

ings.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  anguish  of  separation, 
because  you  already  weep  a  father,  and  I  would  not 
renew  your  grief. 

"  '  The  elevated  position  you  may  occupy  in  society  ; 
the  great  riches  you  may  possess  ;  the  services  you  may 
render  your  country ;  and  the  advantageous  alliance 
you  may  contract,  will  not  afford  you  the  anticipated 
happiness.  And  still  I  have  not  told  you  of  all  the 
duties  you  shall  fill  in  the  world ;  of  all  you  shall 
suffer,  in  working  out  your  salvation  with  fear  and 
trembling.' 

"  '  Reverend  father,  how  rigid  is  your  language  ! ' 

"  '  Notwithstanding,  I  have  only  spoken  truth.  Con- 
sult those  on  whom  Fortune  has  bestowed  her  gifts,  and 
who  have  grown  old  in  the  world.  I  do  not  speak 
only  of  those  who  are  Avithout  religious  principles,  who 
walk  in  darkness  of  mind  and  disordered  hearts,  with- 
out hope  of  happiness  beyond  the  tomb,  but  also  of 
those  who  use  the  goods  of  the  world  with  wisdom. 
They  will  tell  you  that  happiness  disappears  with 
youth ;  that  the  realities  of  life,  far  from  rendering 
them  happy,  engender  disgust,  and  that  the  pleasure 
derived  from  it  is  ephemeral.  You  ought,  then,  to 
see  that  the  world  will  make  you  unhappy  here  below, 
and  I  must  add,  in  the  future  life  ;  for  Christ  has 
accursed  it.' 

"  '  Pray,  reverend  father,  tell  me  what  I  have  to  do 
to  work  out  in  the  world  my  eternal  salvation.' 

" '  You  shall  yield  passively  to  the  leading  of  us 
priests,  believe  and  practise  all  we  bid  you  to  believe 
and  practise.  Besides,  you  shall  partake  with  us  the 
cares  of  our  apostleship.' 


PAUL   AXD    JULIA  85 

"  '  In  what  manner  ? ' 

"  '  In  facilitating  our  ministry ;  in  making  it  more 
fruitful  for  the  soul's  salvation.' 

"  *  But  I  do  not  see  how  I  can.' 

"  '  In  many  ways.  So,  God  having  granted  you 
wealth,  you  shall  help  us ;  holding  a  high  social  sta- 
tion, you  shall  use  your  influence  that  the  great  of  the 
world  protect  and  favor  us  ;  being  vested  with  author- 
ity, and  thereby  influential  on  families,  you  shall  advo- 
cate among  them  our  power,  right,  and  interests.' 

"  '  Is  this  required  for  my  eternal  salvation?  ' 

"  '  Certainly.  Furthermore,  you  shall  inquire  from 
families  in  order  that  you  may  inform  us  of  what  is 
enacting  among  them,  and  reveal  to  us  all  that  you 
know.' 

"  '  And  for  what  purpose  ? ' 

"  '  To  enable  us  to  rule  more  surely  their  temporal 
and  eternal  interests.' 

"  '  Is  this  obligatory  upon  me  ?  ' 

"  '  Undoubtedly ;  for  we  read  in  the  Bible  that  we 
must  watch  over  the  conduct  of  our  neighbors.' 

"  '  Reverend  father,  I  must  believe  that  what  you 
say  is  the  will  of  God,  though  it  seems  opposed  to  the 
gospel,  and  to  my  reason.  Still  do  you  allow  me  to 
speak  to  you  all  my  thought,  both  to  settle  my  con- 
science and  to  enable  you,  whom  God  has  chosen  for 
my  guide,  to  know  me  better.' 

"  '  Yes,  my  son  ;  and  le\,  me  cursorily  say  that  I.  feel 
happy  to  call  you  by  this  name ;  for  you  are  my  spir- 
itual son,  and  you  consider  me  as  your  father.  Speak.' 

"  '  It  appears  to  me  that  denunciation  is  a  crime  ; 
for  it  supposes  curiosity,  artfulness,  duplicity,  false- 
8 


86  PAUL   AND   JITLIA. 

hood,  hypocrisy,  and  cowardice.  Far  from  being  use- 
ful, it  is  injurious  to  all ;  far  from  generating  frater- 
nity, it  generates  only  discord ;  it  is  the  source  of 
antipathy,  contentions,  quarrels,  hatred,  and  vengeance. 
Moreover,  though  my  conscience  would  authorize  me 
to  play  the  part  of  a  spy  and  of  a  denunciator,  it  is 
against  my  disposition  and  habits  to  lend  myself  to 
such  an  office.' 

"  '  You  are  mistaken,  my  son.  What  I  propose  to 
you,  far  from  being  sinful,  is  laudable,  and  conform- 
able to  the  will  of  God ;  for  God  looks  at  the  heart. 
Intention  and  chiefly  obedience  justify  before  his  eyes. 
Besides,  Christ  has  recommended  us  to  unite  to  the 
simplicity  of  the  dove  the  prudence  of  the  serpent. 
What  I  propose  to  you  is  not  a  cowardice,  for  your 
purpose  would  be  the  benefit  of  your  neighbor.  And 
would  you  feel  reluctancy  in  accomplishing  this  char- 
itable duty  ?  With  use,  however,  and  time,  your  re- 
luctancy would  disappear.' 

"  '  Will  I,  at  least,  be  permitted  to  go  in  society, 
and  enjoy  its  charms  ?  ' 

"  '  Your  eternal  salvation  would  be  very  much  en- 
dangered.' 

"  '  Yet,  for  my  family's  sake,  and  for  my  own  inter- 
ests, I  must  frequent  society,  yield  to  its  exigencies, 
and  take  part  in  enjoyments  when  they  are  not  forbid- 
den by  the  gospel.' 

"  '  Say,  rather,  when  they  are  not  forbidden  by  the 
clergy,  who  are  commissioned  by  God  to  explain  the 
gospel.  Of  course  you  will  be  permitted  some  inter- 
course with  society ;  but  be  aware  that  you  must  be 
circumspect ;  ODoerve  what  will  be  enacted,  and  inform 
us  about  it.' 


PAUL    AND   JULIA.  87 

"  *  Will  I,  at  least,  be  allowed  to  marry  ? ' 
"  '  Yes ;  but  it  will  be  a  great  danger  for  your  sal- 
vation. I  do  not  think  that  God  calls  you  to  marriage, 
for  your  heart  would  be  divided,  and  God  is  sover- 
eignly jealous.  He  would  possess  your  whole  heart. 
Moreover,  you  could  but  imperfectly,  being  married, 
participate  in  our  ministry  ;  and  thereby  you  would  not 
receive  the  reward  promised  by  God  to  the  co-workers 
of  his  priests.  If,  in  despite  of  these  considerations, 
you  marry,  I  tremble  for  your  eternal  salvation.  In 
celibacy,  chastity  is  easily  preserved ;  but  in  marriage 
it  is  nearly  impossible.  Would  you  know  the  teach- 
ing of  theologians  on  the  obligations  of  a  married  man, 
you  would  be  frightened  so  that  you  would  reject  for- 
ever the  thought  of  marrying.' 

"  '  Ah,  reverend  father,  I  foresee  all  that,  practising 
your  counsels,  I  must  endure.' 

"  '  Do  not  exaggerate  ;  you  will  have  succor  and  sol- 
ace. To  soften  the  solitude  which  you  shall  have  es- 
poused in  society,  you  can  confess  often,  and  be  admitted 
to  frequent  communion.  You  can  every  day  count  beads 
—  that  admirable  and  sublime  prayer  which  is  dear  to 
the  heart  of  Mary,  so  that  she  descended  from  heaven 
to  teach  it  to  one  of  her  holy  servants.  You  likewise 
can,  every  day,  during  half  of  an  hour,  read  mystical 
books  ;  and  above  all,  in  the  morning,  meditate  dur- 
ing half  of  an  hour  on  some  important  truths  of  re- 
ligion.' 

"  '  But  in  what  manner  shall  I  meditate  ?  ' 
"  '  In  this  :  on  the  evening  before  going  to  rest,  you 
shall  prepare,  in  reading  or  reflecting,  the  matter  of 
your  meditation  of  the  next  day.     During  the  night, 


88  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

when  you  are  awake  you  shall  again  reflect  on  it,  and 
in  the  morning  you  shall  keep  your  mind  recueilH 
and  attentive,  lest  profane  ideas  absorb  you,  and  be  in- 
jurious to  your  meditation.  This  is  what  the  ascetic 
authors  style  the  indirect  preparation.  Then  you  shall 
kneel,  recite  a  vocal  prayer,  confess  your  sins  to  God, 
shall  ask  the  help  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  recite  the  for- 
mulas of  the  acts  of  adoration  and  remer clement.  This 
is  the  direct  preparation.  Next  you  shall  enter  upon 
the  object  of  your  meditation,  which  you  shall  have  pre- 
viously divided  into  three  points.  The  greater  num- 
ber of  acts  of  humility,  obedience,  offering,  and  demand, 
and  chiefly  of  faith,  hope,  and  charity,  you  will  recite, 
the  more  your  meditation  will  be  profitable  to  your  soul 
and  pleasing  to  God. 

" '  You  shall  take  one  or  two  resolutions,  and  for 
spiritual  bouquet  one  thought,  which  will  keep  all  the 
day  in  your  mind  the  recollection  of  your  meditation. 

"  '  After  your  meditation,  you  must  every  morning 
assist  at  the  holy  sacrifice  of  the  mass.  By  noon  you 
must  examine  your  conscience,  and  by  twilight  visit  in 
the  church  the  holy  sacrament.' 

"  '  But,  reverend  father,  you  entangle  me  in  an  in- 
extricable labyrinth.  My  mind  will  be  lost  among  all 
these  prayers,  meditations,  and  religious  practices. 
Your  language  is  to  me  strange  ;  it  is  far  from  giving 
me  any  courage.' 

" '  Try  to  practise  what  I  say  to  you,  and  soon  these 
practices,  which  seem  so  strange  and  hard,  will  afford  to 
you  indescribable  pleasures.' 

"  '  Shall  I  be  bound  in  conscience  to  all  this  ?  ' 

"  '  I  did  not  dare  say  to  you  all  about  it,  fearing  to 


FAUX    A5s'D    JULIA.  89 

dishearten  you ;  but  you  cannot  but  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  work  out  your  salvation  without  being  faith- 
ful to  these  practices.' 

"  '  Are  there  many  Catholics  who  bend  themselves 
to  these  restraining  observances  ?  ' 

"  '  Alas  !  they  are  very  few,  unfortunately  ;  but  it  is 
not  astonishing.  Christ  has  said,  "  Many  (are)  called, 
but  few  chosen." ' 

"  '  You  say  that  society,  wealth,  dignities,  pleas- 
ures, freedom,  hymen,  and  family  will  endanger  my 
eternal  salvation,  and  that,  in  order  to  avoid  the  dan- 
ger I  shall  be  bound  to  such  lonesome  and  hard  life. 
O,  it  would  be  better  for  me  to  die.  If,  at  least,  I  was 
permitted  to  live  in  the  bosom  of  my  family,  and  to 
marry,  without  putting  my  eternal  salvation  at  stake, 
it  would  be  for  me  some  comfort.' 

"  '  You  may  not.' 

"  '  Have  not  many  saints  enjoyed  themselves  in  the 
bosom  of  their  families,  and  withal  worked  out  their 
eternal  salvation  ? ' 

"  '  Some  of  them  did,  but  they  met  thorns  without 
gathering  roses.' 

" '  Where  then  can  I  find  happiness,  for  my  soul 
thirsts  for  it  ?  ' 

"  '  Believe  me,  happiness  is  not  on  earth  ;  but  if  you 
were  grafted  on  Jesus  Christ,  life  would  often  afford  to 
you  delicious  fruits.  If  you  were  initiated  in  his  mys- 
terious doctrine,  of  which  a  few  souls  have  the  knowl- 
edge, it  would  produce  in  your  heart  a  source  of  fe- 
licity. That  doctrine  would  be  the  luminous  cloud 
which  would  shield  you  from  the  sun  of  passion,  and 
would  guide  you  during  the  night  of  affliction.  It  would 
8* 


90  PAUL   AND   JTJLIA. 

be  the  manna  which  would  nourish  you  in  the  world  ; 
the  fountain  that  would  quench  your  thirst ;  the  water 
thereof  was  unknown  to  the  Samaritan  ;  it  would  be  the 
polar  star  which  would  lead  you  to  the  port  of  a  bliss- 
ful eternity.' 

"  '  O  my  father,  teach  me,  then,  this  mysterious  doc- 
trine, which  can  give  me  happiness,  and  facilitate  my 
salvation.' 

"  '  Pray  ;  beg  God  to  enlighten  your  mind  ;  for  this 
knowledge  is  a  gift  of  his  munificence.  The  rich 
young  man  spoken  of  in  the  gospel  observed  the  law  ; 
still  he  withdrew  full  of  sadness  when  Jesus  Christ 
said  to  him,  "  Sell  whatsoever  thou  hast,  and  give  to 
the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven." 
Come  to  my  monastery  in  eight  days,  in  the  morning. 
I  will  teach  you  this  secret  of  happiness,  which  will 
afford  you  indescribable  joy  in  both  this  and  the 
future  life.'  " 


PAUL    AND    JULIA. 


91 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


PROFESSION    OF    A   NOVICE. SECRET   OF  HAPPINESS. 


T  the  solicitation  of  Is- 
ram,  Paul,  in  whom  this 
recital  aroused  so  many 
recollections,  and  pro- 
duced such  various  im- 
pressions, took  a  few  mo- 
ments' repose.  He  then 
continued :  — 

"  The  discourse  of  the 
monk,  in  undeceiving  me, 
had  greatly  affected  me. 
However,  I  had  one  con- 
solation ;  it  was  his  prom- 
ise of  initiating  me  in  the 
true  secret  of  a  present 
and  future  felicity. 

"  On  the  day  which  he 
had  appointed,  I  went  to 
the  monastery,  and  the 
monk  said  to  me,  — 

"  '  The  ceremony  of  the  profession  of  a  novice  is 
about  to  take  place  in  the  church  ;  perhaps  it  may  in- 
terest, perhaps  affect  you.  I  invite  you  to  attend ; 
then  we  can  entertain  ourselves  at  our  leisure.' 

"  I  acquiesced  ;  he  led  me  into  the  church,  and  af- 
terwards took  his  place  in  the  choir  with  the  other 


92  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

monks.  After  praying  a  few  moments,  I  looked  around, 
and  was  dazzled  by  the  magnificence.  The  interior  of 
the  building  was  immense ;  it  formed  a  vaulted  nave, 
with  many  arches.  Ranges  of  richly-carved  columns 
supported  the  beautifully-fluted  arches.  Pictures  in 
fresco,  glittering  with  gold,  ornamented  the  vaults. 
The  mouldings  of  these  pictures  were  strong  and  fine. 
The  window  frames  were  luxuriantly  carved ;  on  the 
glass  were  painted,  in  rich  colors,  scenes  from  the  Old 
and  New  Testament,  through  which  the  sun  seemed  to 
shed  a  veiled  and  mysterious  light.  Along  the  sides 
of  the  nave  were  raised  altars  of  white  marble,  sur- 
mounted by  images  of  the  saints  to  whom  they  were 
dedicated.  All  around  the  church  small  columns  were 
intwined  with  garlands,  and  their  richly-carved  capi- 
tals supported  finely-moulded  wainscots.  Under  the 
side  arches  were  galleries  with  graceful  balustrades, 
extending  the  whole  circumference  of  the  church.  At 
the  commencement  of  the  gallery  above  the  portal,  the 
organ  case  was  supported  by  Caryatides,  around  which 
were  graceful  branches  of  evergreens  and  bouquets  of 
flowers,  displaying  the  whiteness  of  the  marble  between 
the  leaves.  Costly  pictures,  symmetrically  arranged, 
ornamented  the  walls.  A  gilded  railing  separated  the 
nave  from  the  choir,  where  were  a  number  of  richly- 
carved  seats. 

"  At  the  bottom  of  the  sanctuary,  forming  a  rotunda, 
were  costly  marbles,  ornamented  by  beautiful  carv- 
ing of  garlands  of  roses  —  work  of  the  great  artists  ; 
and  statues,  wrought  by  the  chisel  of  the  most  distin- 
guished sculptors.  High  columns  were  spherically  ar- 
ranged around  the  great  altars,  on  which  the  richest 


*t  PAUL   AND   JULIA.  93 

Phasing  and  carving  were  seen.  The  chandeliers  were 
of  gold,  and  the  lustres  were  daz/ling  with  a  thou- 
sand prismatic  colors.  The  most  of  the  sacerdotal 
garments  were  of  golden  cloth  and  rich  embroidery. 
Tne  sacred  vessels  were  of  massive  gold,  and  inter- 
spersed with  diamonds  and  precious  stones.  What- 
ever was  used  in  the  highest  sacerdotal  functions  was 
of  gold,  silver,  or  costly  materials.  As  to  those  things 
that  in  worship  are  destined  for  less  noble  purposes, 
they  were  equally  expensive ;  even  the  carpets  were 
rich  *nd  silky.  When  my  eyes  became  familiar  with 
this  pomp  and  magnificence,  the  ceremony  fixed  my 
attention. 

"  Ai  the  right  side  of  the  vault,  a  throne  was  erected, 
upon  which  the  superior  of  the  convent  had  taken  his 
place,  on  a  seat  covered  with  velvet  and  adorned  with 
splentiid  drapery.  A  deacon,  subdeacon,  and  other 
suboitfinate  officers  occupied  seats  upon  the  degrees 
of  the  throne.  In  the  centre  of  the  choir,  the  floor 
was  covered  with  a  black  cloth ;  a  coffin,  covered  with 
a  paH,  was  placed  upon  it ;  four  white  wax  candles 
were  burning  around  it ;  and  at  the  foot  grinned  a 
death's  head,  placed  on  two  bones,  in  the  form  of  a 
cross.  On  an  elevated  estrade,  ladies  displayed  with 
pride  their  rich  and  costly  attire  ;  and,  in  a  semicircle 
was  a  confused  crowd  of  spectators,  whom  curiosity 
had  attracted.  Below,  at  the  side  of  the  throne,  was 
seated  a  youth,  arrayed  in  the  most  pompous  style. 
It  was  the  novice,  who  was  about  to  make  his  pro- 
fession. 

"After  the  reading  of  the  Gospel,  the  priest  mounted 
the  pulpit,  and  addressed  the  assembly.  He  compared 


94  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

the  world  to  the  gloomy  images  which  shadowed  the 
sanctuary,  and  the  magnificence  and  pomp  of  the  cere- 
mony to  the  sweets  and  charms  of  a  religious  life.  He 
concluded  by  saying  the  world  was  the  abode  of  spirit- 
ual blindness,  affliction  of  heart,  and  death  of  the 
soul ;  and  the  cloister  that  of  true  light  and  felicity. 

"  After  this  discourse,  the  novice  approached,  and 
knelt  at  the  feet  of  the  superior,  who  propounded  the 
following  questions  to  him :  — 

"  *  "What  brings  you  thus  adorned  into  the  house  of 
God?' 

"  '  The  salvation  of  my  soul.' 

" '  Do  you  renounce  the  pomp  and  vanity  of  the 
world?' 

"  '  I  do  renounce  them.' 

"  '  Do  you  vow  to  live  a  life  of  chastity  ?  ' 

"  '  I  do.' 

"  '  Do  you  renounce  your  own  will,  and  vow  to  obey 
the  will  of  your  superiors  ?  ' 

"  '  I  do  renounce  my  own  will,  and  vow  to  obey  my 
superiors.' 

"  '  Go,  then,'  said  he  to  him,  '  cast  off  and  trample 
under  foot  the  livery  of  the  world ;  then  come  and  take 
your  place  in  this  coffin  under  the  funeral  pall.  This 
death  will  separate  you  from  the  world;  but  this  tomb 
will  be  to  you  the  cradle  of  a  new  life.  You,  like  the 
chrysalis,  will  leave  your  terrestrial  covering,  and  come 
out  anew  with  rich  wings,  which  will  elevate  you  to 
the  region  of  virtue  and  happiness.' 

"  The  superior  ceased  speaking,  and  the  organ  pealed 
forth  its  sublime  chant. 

"  The  novice  was  conducted  to  the  sacristy,  where  his 


PAUL   AND   JtTLIA.  95 

unholy  dress  was  taken  off,  and  he  was  clothed  in  a 
religious  habit.  He  then  returned  to  the  choir,  and 
was  laid  in  the  coffin  :  he  was  covered  with  a  pall,  and 
then  the  office  for  the  dead  was  recited.  After  this 
ceremony,  he  drew  near  the  superior,  and  received  his 
benediction,  embraced  each  of  the  monks,  and  took  his 
place  among  them.  The  offering  of  the  holy  sacrifice 
was  then  continued  ;  and  when  it  was  finished,  he 
prostrated  himself  before  the  statue  of  the  Virgin,  which 
was  arrayed  in  silk  and  velvet,  and  glittered  with  more 
diamonds  and  precious  stones  than  the  queens  of  the 
earth.  There  he  consecrated  himself,  and  implored  her 
special  protection.  Then  the  Te  Deum  was  chanted  in 
thanksgiving  that  one  soul  was  snatched  from  the  world, 
and  consecrated  to  God. 

"  The  crowd  quietly  dispersed,  but  I  was  greatly 
moved.  The  monk  called  me  to  him,  and  led  me  to 
the  interior  of  the  convent.  We  traversed  a  vast  court 
and  immense  rooms,  where  marble  statues  and  decora- 
tions were  distributed  in  great  profusion.  We  passed 
through  long  corridors  and  immense  galleries  surround- 
ing the  monastery,  ornamented  with  all  the  magic  of 
art.  We  entered  the  vestibule,  where  arose  a  spiral 
staircase,  with  steps  and  balustrade  of  marble.  From 
there  we  passed  into  the  gardens,  where  the  monks 
were  already  assembled,  to  enjoy  themselves  until  the 
hour  of  the  entertainment ;  for  this  was  a  fete  day  — 
another  was  added  to  their  family. 

"  Father  Francis  left  me  to  my  contemplations, 
without  making  any  remark.  We  then  wandered  by 
the  borders  of  beautiful  fountains,  with  magnificent 
reservoirs,  and  traversed  several  gardens  of  varied  and 


96  TATTL   AND   JULIA. 

elegant  designs.  We  penetrated  a  wooded  labyrinth, 
and  pursued  its  many  windings  till  we  entered  a 
shaded  spot  called  by  Father  Francis  Golgotha.  It 
was  a  tertre,  shaped  as  an  English  garden  :  on  the  top 
thereof  a  cross,  loaded  with  gilt  hearts,  was  erected. 
At  a  little  distance  below  it  were  groups  of  yeuses, 
with  a  polished  bark,  and  a  beautiful  foliage.  The  same 
hand  had  planted  them  ;  the  same  spring  had  seen  their 
buds  opening  and  blooming ;  they  had  been  agitated 
by  the  same  winds.  Their  branches  that  blended,  and 
were  close  to  each  other,  fell  again  in  the  middle,  and 
formed  a  cradle.  Vines  of  smilax,  that  twined  around 
their  trunks  flexible  rings,  arose  in  the  form  of  spirals 
to  the  ends  of  their  branches,  and  descended  again  like 
garlands,  on  which  they  enlaced  with  their  folds. 

*' '  Let  us  stop,'  the  monk  said,  '  and  enter  into  this 
grove.' 

"  We  entered  in,  and  sat  on  a  root  arched  over  the 
ground. 

"  '  Reverend  father,'  I  asked,  '  am  I  allowed  to  en- 
treat you  to  initiate  me  in  the  mysterious  doctrine  of 
the  gospel,  that  can,  you  have  said  to  me,  make  me 
happy  here  below  and  hereafter  ?  ' 

"  '  Listen  then,  young  friend,  to  what  I  am  about  to 
speak  to  you,  and  ponder  it :  — 

"  '  "  Then  answered  Peter,  and  said  unto  him,  [Jesus 
Christ,]  Behold,  we  have  forsaken  all,  and  followed 
thee  :  what  shall  we  have  therefore  ?  And  Jesus  said 
unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  ye  which  have 
followed  me,  in  the  regeneration  when  the  Son  of  man 
shall  sit  in  the  throne  of  his  glory,  ye  also  shall  sit 
upon  twelve  thrones,  judging  the  twelve  tribes  of 


PATTL  ASTD   JULIA,  97 

Israel.  And  every  one  that  hath  forsaken  houses,  or 
brethren,  or  sisters,  or  father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or 
children,  or  lands,  for  my  name's  sake,  shall  receive  a 
hundred  fold,  and  shall  inherit  everlasting  life." 

*' '  This  is  the  hidden  meaning  of  these  words  :  — 

"  '  We  have  to  leave  society,  because  it  is  hostile 
both  to  the  gospel  and  those  that  practise  it. 

"  '  We  have  to  espouse  the  religious  life,  because  it 
is  a  public  profession  of  the  Christian  perfection,  and 
an  evident  mark  of  predestination. 

"  '  We  have  to  despise  honors,  to  be  modest  and 
humble,  because  those  that  are  the  first  in  this  world 
shall  be  the  last  in  the  house  of  God.  Jesus  Christ 
fled  to  the  wilderness  when  the  people  intended  to 
crown  him  king, 

"  '  We  have  to  leave  our  inheritance,  because  "  a 
rich  man  shall  hardly  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God." 
Voluntary  poverty  is  an  easy  way,  leading  to  heaven. 

"  '  We  have  to  leave  the  land  of  our  nativity,  be- 
cause we  have  not  on  earth  a  permanent  dwelling.  The 
heavens  are  our  sole  and  true  country. 

"  '  We  have  to  deny  our  family  according  to  the 
flesh,  and  not  to  live  in  its  bosom,  because  we  belong 
to  God,  and  not  to  our  parents;  because,  if  he  calls 
as  by  an  extraordinary  grace,  we  ought  to  "  let  the 
•lead  bury  their  dead  ;  "  because  the  parents  of  man  are 
nis  enemies.  We  ministers  of  Jesus  Christ  do  not 
preach  such  a  sublime  doctrine  before  the  common  peo- 
ple, for  the  Savior  has  said  to  his  apostles,  "  Give  not 
that  which  is  holy  unto  the  dogs,  neither  cast  ye  your 
pearls  before  swine,  lest  they  trample  theti  under  thfcir 
feet,  and  turn  again  and  rend  you."  ' 
9 


98  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

u  '  Reverend  father,  explain  to  me  this  doctrine  ;  it 
seems  to  me  a  monstrous  one.' 

"  '  What  a  blasphemy  !  but  I  excuse  your  ignorance. 
If  I  initiate  you  in  this  holy  and  mysterious  doctrine, 
it  is  only  because  God  has  revealed  to  me,  whilst  I  Avas 
praying  for  you,  that  he  calls  you  to  religion.' 

"  '  I  still,  reverend  father,  feel  against  the  monachal 
life  the  strongest  reluctance.' 

"  '  It  is  a  temptation  from  the  devil.  God  permits 
it  to  try  and  purify  your  soul,  so  that  you  be  worthy 
of  your  divine  calling.  But  I  have  not  time  at  present 
to  talk  about  it.  Listen  to  me.  You  say  that  my 
interpretation  of  the  words  of  Christ  is  monstrous. 
As  proof  that  it  is  their  true  meaning,  we  monks, 
who  practise  it,  receive  the  hundred  fold  promised  by 
Christ.' 

"  '  What  is  this  hundred  fold  ? ' 

"  '  This  is  it :  — 

"  '  We  monks  have  renounced  honors ;  but  we  are 
allowed  by  Christ  to  say  to  the  people,  "  Build  up  for 
us  churches  ;  let  them  be  splendid,  for  we  are  the  lieu- 
tenants of  God  on  earth.  You  shall  divide  them  into 
two  parts ;  the  one  for  us,  the  other  for  you.  Ours 
shall  be  called  sanctuary,  yours  nave.  You  shall  raise 
up  a  gilded  railing  separating  them ;  you  shall  call  it 
the  sacred  table  of  communion.  You  shall  pave  our 
sanctuary  with  marble ;  you  shall  adorn  it  with  luxuri- 
ant menuiseries ;  with  pictures,  sculptures,  and  statues ; 
with  purple  seats,  soft  carpets,  and  dazzling  lustres. 
In  the  centre  you  shall  erect  an  altar  of  the  richest 
stone ;  and  before  we  mount  its  steps,  you  shall  buy 
for  us  and  shall  dress  us  with  sacerdotal  ornaments, 


PAITI,  AND  JULIA.  99 

shining  with,  silk,  embroideries,  silver,  gold,  and  pre- 
cious stones.  Thereon  we  will  summon  God  to  leave 
heaven,  to  he  present  in  our  hands,  and  to  obey,  pas- 
sively, our  will.  You  shall  put  up  a  throne  by  the 
altar.  We  will  sit  thereon,  crowned  with  a  mitre,  and 
holding  a  sceptre.  The  great  of  the  world  only,  and 
the  handsomest  boys,  will  be  permitted  to  surround 
the  throne,  and  to  kiss,  on  their  knees,  our  feet  or 
hands.  Whenever  we  do  rise  up,  you  shall  kneel 
and  prostrate  yourselves  on  the  floor  of  the  nave. 
Then  we  will  extend  our  arms,  and  bless  you.  You 
shall  erect  a  tribune  ;  the  steps  thereof  we  will  mount 
to  teach  you ;  you  shall  call  it  the  sacred  desk,  because 
therefrom  we  will  impose  upon  you  our  interpretation 
of  the  gospel.  You  shall  make  confessionals,  wherein, 
kneeling  before  us,  you  shall  reveal  to  us  your  thoughts 
and  feelings,  and  shall  confess  all  you  have  done  opposed 
to  our  will,  that  thereby  are  sins  before  God.  Then  we 
will  extend  our  hand  over  your  head,  will  pronounce, 
if  it  is  our  good  will,  mysterious  words,  and  your  sins 
will  be  forgiven ;  your  soul  will  become  as  clean,  as 
white,  as  snow,  and  from  sinners  and  accursed  of  God 
that  you  were,  you  will  be  just,  and  favorites  of  God." 
"  '  And  the  people  build  for  us  splendid  churches  ; 
divide  them  into  two  parts  ;  the  one  for  us,  the  other  for 
themselves.  They  call  ours  sanctuary,  and  theirs  nave. 
They  raise  up  a  gilded  railing  separating  them,  and 
call  it  the  sacred  table  of  communion.  They  pave  our 
sanctuary  with  marble  ;  adorn  it  with  luxuriant  menui- 
series,  with  pictures,  sculptures,  and  statues  ;  with  pur- 
ple seats,  soft  carpets,  and  dazzling  lustres.  They 
erect  in  the  centre  an  altar  of  the  richest  stone ;  buy 


PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

for  us  and  dress  us  with  sacerdotal  ornaments,  shining 
with  silk,  embroideries,  silver,  gold,  and  precious 
stones.  They  put  up  a  throne  by  the  altar,  and  we 
sit  therein  crowned  with  a  mitre,  and  holding  a  scep- 
tre. The  great  of  the  world  and  the  handsomest  boys 
solicit  the  favor  of  standing  around  our  throne,  of  kiss- 
ing, on  their  knees,  our  feet  and  hands.  The  people, 
when  we  rise  up,  kneel  and  prostrate  themselves  on  the 
floor  of  the  nave  to  receive  our  benediction.  The  peo- 
ple erect  a  tribune  ;  the  steps  thereof  we  mount  to  teach 
them ;  they  call  it  the  sacred  desk.  They  make  con- 
fessionals wherein  they  reveal  to  us  their  thoughts  and 
feelings,  confess,  and  are  absolved  of  their  sins. 

"  '  Is  this  not,  young  friend,  the  hundred  fold  of  the 
honor  that  we  have  renounced  ?  But  this  is  not  all. 
Out  of  our  sanctuary  we  are  like  Moses  coming  down 
from  Mount  Sinai,  with  the  two  tables  of  testimony  in 
his  hands  ;  the  people  believe  that  our  faces  shine  with 
a  divine  light.  They  are  respectful  and  afraid  to  come 
nigh  us.  All  of  them  bow  to  us  in  the  streets  and 
public  squares.  The  great  of  the  world  deem  them- 
selves highly  honored  when  we  appear  in  their  parlors, 
or  sit  at  their  tables.  We  drink  out  of  the  cup  of 
kings,  and  overrule  their  courts,  their  armies,  and  their 
people.  "We  compel  them  to  come  and  kneel  before 
us  to  ask  us  what  they  must  think,  feel,  and  do  ;  to  con- 
fess, and  receive  from  our  good  will  the  absolution  of 
their  sins. 

"'Was  I  not  right  saying  that  we  monks  receive 
in  religion  the  hundred  fold  of  the  honors  that  we 
liave  renounced  ? 

"  'We  monks  have  renounced  wealth.     But  we  are 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA.  101 

as  rich  as  kings.  The  farmers  sow  and  harvest  for  us. 
The  vinedressers  raise  for  us  the  most  delicate  grapes, 
and  press  the  most  generous  wines.  The  sailors  cross 
the  seas,  and  bring  to  us,  from  foreign  lands,  the  rich- 
est gifts.  The  merchants  present  us  with  their  hest 
goods.  The  mechanics  lavish  upon  us  their  lahor,  and 
the  artists  their  talent.  All  classes  of  society  work  to 
enrich  us,  because  they  understand  well  that  we,  being 
potent  and  influential,  can  be  of  great  service  to  them. 
And  behold,  count,  if  you  can,  the  splendid  convents 
and  country  houses  which  the  people  have  put  up  for 
us  ;  all  the  rich  and  immense  property  that  they  have 
bought  for  us  all  over  the  world.  Besides,  count,  if  you 
can,  the  amount  of  money  which  we  have  in  our  cellars, 
in  our  chests,  in  the  banks,  and  every  where.  More- 
over, do  you  not  see  with  your  own  eyes  that  the  mag- 
nificence of  this  convent  isfeerique  ? 

"  '  I  ask  you  now,  young  friend,  if  we  monks  do 
not  receive  and  enjoy  in  religion  the  hundred  fold  of 
the  wealth  that  we  have  renounced. 

"  '  We  have  renounced  pleasures.  But  what  are 
they  in  society  ?  Bitterness,  and  nothing  else.  In  re- 
ligion we  enjoy  them  without  disturbance.  We  are 
rid  of  the  care  of  a  family.  We  enjoy  wealth  with- 
out fearing  to  lose  it ;  we  gather  roses  without  being 
pricked  by  their  thorns.  Moreover,  can  you  conceive 
a  greater  or  nobler  pleasure  than  to  shine  on  the  chan- 
delier ;  to  rank  above  society  ;  to  be  mediator  between 
God  and  man ;  than  to  rule  men  as  Providence  rules 
the  universe  ? 

"  '  Is  this  not  the  hundred  fold  of  the  pleasures  that 
we  have  renounced  ? 
9* 


102  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

"  '  We  have  renounced  our  family  according  to  the 
flesh ;  but  we  have  adopted  a  family  according  to  God. 
Our  carnal  parents  loved  us  with  a  material  and  sensual 
love ;  but  in  religion  our  superiors  love  us  more  tender- 
ly. We  had  but  one  father  and  one  mother,  a  few 
brothers  and  sisters  ;  but  in  religion  it  is  not  so  ;  if  we 
travel  all  over  the  globe,  we  find  in  all  kingdoms,  em- 
pires, and  republics,  even  in  all  savage  tribes,  eccle- 
siastical superiors  who  love  us  more  than  our  fathers 
and  mothers  did ;  we  find  brothers  who,  instead  of 
being  selfish,  carnal,  and  our  enemies,  as  our  brothers 
and  sisters  would  have  been,  entertain  for  us  a  true 
fraternal  affection. 

"  '  Is  it  not  the  hundred  fold  of  the  enjoyments  that 
the  family  which  we  have  renounced  would  have  af- 
forded to  us  ? 

"  '  We  have  renounced  hymen ;  but  the  eternal  beau- 
ty offers  us  its  charms ;  the  source  of  the  infinite  love- 
liness fills  our  heart.  We  plunge  into  the  ocean  of  the 
divine  perfectness,  and  lose  ourselves  in  its  deep.  In- 
toxicated with  love,  our  soul  masters  our  flesh,  leaves 
our  body,  takes  her  flight  to  the  celestial  regions,  and 
unites  to  her  divine  husband.  She  exclaims  in  her  de- 
lirium, in  her  burning  kisses,  "  Plenty  of  joy,  Lord  ! 
plenty  of  voluptuousness,  my  divine  Spouse  !  O,  en- 
large my  heart,  for  it  is  overflowing." 

" '  I  ask  you  now,  young  friend,  if  in  the  reli- 
gious life  we  have  not  the  hundred  fold  of  the  enjoy- 
ments that  honors,  wealth,  pleasure,  family,  and  hymen 
would  have  afforded  to  us  had  we  not  renounced 
them  ? ' 

"  '  Reverend  father,  I  beg  leave  to  say,  that  if  I  was 


PAUL   AND   JULIJL.  103 

not  aware  that,  being  a  lieutenant  of  God  on  eartn,  all 
that  you  say  in  his  name  is  right,  I  should  be  scan- 
dalized at  what  you  say  on  the  hundred  fold  of  honors, 
wealth,  pleasures,  family,  and  hymen,  that  the  monks 
enjoy  in  religion  :  it  is  anti-Christian.' 

"  '  Stop,  young  friend ;  you  are  about  to  blaspheme. 
Alas  !  I  must  excuse  your  ignorance  of  the  science  of 
the  gospel.  You  do  not  apprehend  the  holiness  and 
sublimity  of  the  doctrine  which  we  monks,  and  the 
whole  Romish  church,  hold  on  the  words  of  the  gospel, 
that  I  have  related  to  you.'  And  why  do  you  not  ap- 
prehend them  ?  Because  your  sins  obnubilate  your 
soul,  and  render  it  unable  to  receive  so  precious  a 
seed.' 

"  '  O  reverend  father,  how  much  I  have  to  mourn  over 
my  past  life,  over  my  numberless  iniquities !  Would 
that  I  had  been  virtuous,  that  I  might  have  apprehended 
the  doctrine  which,  you  say,  would  make  me  happy 
here  below  and  hereafter.' 

"  '  Young  friend,  cheer  up ;  God  is  merciful.  I,  like 
you,  have  lived  in  the  world.  I,  like  you,  belonged  to 
a  rich  family.  I,  like  you,  saw  a  brilliant  career  un- 
rolling itself  before  my  eyes.  I  have,  perhaps,  more 
than  you  to  mourn  over  a  stormy  youth.' 

"  '  O  my  father,  what  do  you  mean  ? ' 

"  '  What  I  say  is,  unfortunately  for  me,  too  true.  I 
was  sent  by  my  family  to  Naples  for  the  purpose  of 
studying  law.  I  was  then  twenty  years  of  age.  At 
first  I  remained  virtuous ;  but  soon  after  I  forgot,  as 
you  did,  many  religious  practices,  and  withal  lost  my 
relish  for  study.  The  glitter  of  the  world  deceived 
me ;  its  exterior  fascinations  excited  in  my  soul  a  thirst 


104  PAUL    AND   JULIA. 

• 

for  enjoyment,  and  kindled  in  my  heart  the  desire  to 
participate  therein.  But  a  barrier  was  raised  before 
me,  which  I  thought  insurmountable.  I  was  enchained, 
and  believed  the  rigors  of  religion  had  riveted  my 
fetters.  A  sweet  voice  invited  me  to  mirth;  but  I 
trembled  at  the  menaces  of  an  angry  God.  An  en- 
chanted path  was  before  me ;  but  at  its  termination  I 
saw  threatening  eternal  precipices.  I  desired  to  gather 
flowers  in  the  spring  time  of  life,  and  crown  myself 
with  roses;  but  they  were  to  leave  in  my  hands  a 
deadly  poison.  I  desired  to  sacrifice  myself  to  my 
youth,  but  I  could  not  at  the  same  time  devote  myself 
to  virtue.  I  wished,  and  I  did  not  wish.  I  vowed  my 
heart  to  the  practice  of  austere  devotion ;  but,  sur- 
prised, I  found  myself  floating  with  delight  on  the 
river  of  voluptuousness.  "  I  will  disembark,"  said  I ; 
but  immediately  the  shore  faded  from  my  sight.  I  was 
vanquished. 

"  '  Then  I  offered  my  incense  to  liberty  and  the  god 
of  pleasure.  Excitement  was  necessary  to  me,  and  I 
found  it  every  day  ;  dress,  promenades,  entertainments, 
play,  festivities,  balls,  theatres  in  their  turn  paid  tribute 
to  me.  All  the  powers  of  my  being,  virgin  and  vigor- 
ous, drank  of  these  delights  to  intoxication,  and  never 
found  bitterness  at  the  bottom  of  the  cup.  I  took  with 
pleasure,  and  left  without  regret.  I  flew  from  flower 
to  flower,  but  never  exhausted  the  cup.  I  reaped  with 
full  sickle  in  the  field  of  happiness.  Alas  !  once  on  the 
precipice,  I  fell  to  the  bottom  of  the  gulf.  I  still  felt 
the  influence  of  virtue,  the  thought  of  glory,  filial  ten- 
derness, and  religion ;  but  I  soon  trampled  upon  them. 
I  asked  myself,  "  What  is  the  weight  of  glory  in  the  scale 


PAUL   AXD    JULIA,  105 

of  pleasure  ?  What  does  it  signify  to  my  family  that 
I  become  the  slave  of  study  or  pleasure,  if  they  are 
ignorant  of  my  conduct  ?  What  have  I  to  fear  from 
religion  ?  I  have  a  long  future  in  which  to  return  to 
her." 

"  '  I  yielded  to  the  weakness  of  my  senses,  and  fol- 
lowed the  most  inordinate  desires  of  my  heart.  How- 
ever, I  was  soon  disgusted ;  my  sensibilities  were 
blunted,  my  spirits  dull,  my  heart  withered,  and  my 
whole  being  enfeebled  and  wasted.  My  remorse  was 
so  great,  and  produced  in  me  a  void  so  profound,  that 
I  longed  for  death. 

"  '  Young  friend,  I  have,  as  you  see  now,  to  mourn 
more  than  you  over  a  stormy  youth.  Notwithstand- 
ing, mark,  God  in  his  mercy  opened  my  eyes,  and 
called  me  to  him.  He  permitted  me  to  see  all  the 
sublimity  of  the  religious  life,  all  the  happiness  Avhich 
it  affords  in  leading  surely  to  the  eternal  felicity  of 
paradise.  I  entered  then  into  religion  ;  and  from  that 
time  till  this  day  I  have  tasted  celestial  joys  that  were 
unknown  to  my  soul  while  living  in  the  world.' 

"  '  Reverend  father,  how  happy  you  are  to  have  been 
drawn  out  of  the  abyss  of  iniquity,  to  have  been  for- 
given by  God,  and  called  by  him  to  the  religious  life  ! ' 

"  '  I  still  had  not  more  evident  proofs  of  my  divine 
calling  than  you  have  now.  Had  I  not  yielded  to  the 
will  of  God,  declared  to  me  by  his  ministers,  I  should 
have,  instead  of  working  out  my  salvation  in  the  world, 
assured  my  endless  reprobation.  I  have,  then,  to  say 
to  you  that  you  must  make  my  example  profitable  to 
you  ;  that  you  ought  to  keep  well  in  your  mind  that 


106  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

you  are  certainly  called  by  God  to  the  religious  life ; 
that  if  you  harden  longer  your  ears  to  his  voice,  and 
your  heart  to  his  grace,  and  do  not  enter  into  religion, 
your  eternal  salvation  will  be  at  stake.  And  what 
say  I  ?  To  speak  more  exactly  and  truly,  you  can- 
not escape  the  eternal  reprobation,  and  work  out  your 
eternal  salvation,  except  by  incessant  miracles  ;  but  to 
trust  in  miracles  from  God  is  sinful,  for  it  is  to  tempt 
him.' 

"  '  But,  reverend  father,  as  I  have  already  said  to 
you,  I  feel  against  the  religious  life  the  utmost  reluc- 
tance.' 

" '  It  is  an  artifice  of  the  spirit  of  darkness,  that  is 
aware  of  your  divine  calling,  and  uses  all  means  to 
hinder  your  soul  from  seeing  light.' 

"  '  Then,  reverend  father,  you  believe  that  God  calls 
me  to  religion.' 

"  '  I  not  only  believe  it,  but  I  know  it  from  himself: 
and  do  not  attenuate  my  words  ;  ponder  well  their 
tenor.  I  declare  to  you,  in  God's  name,  that  you  have 
to  enter  into  religion,  and  this,  for  you,  as  an  almost 
absolute  condition  of  eternal  salvation.' 

"  '  Since  I  must,  I  will  enter  into  religion.  But 
how  unhappy  I  shall  be!  The  hundred  fold  you 
spoke  of  is  for  me  without  charms.  Life  in  a  convent, 
though  comfortable,  seems  to  me  sad  and  dark.  Your 
secret  of  happiness  will  make  me  unhappy.' 

" '  You  are  mistaken.  As  soon  as  you  enter  the 
convent,  you  will  taste  the  joys  of  which  I  have 
spoken.' 

"  '  And  my  mother  ? ' 


P4.UL   AND    JULIA.  107 

"  *  What  have  you  more  to  do  with  your  mothei, 
when  God  calls  you  ?  Did  not  Christ  say  to  his, 
"  Woman,  what  have  I  to  do  with  thee  ?  "  The  doors 
of  the  convent  are  open  to  you ;  come  to  look  for, 
in  thi?  ark,  a  refuge  against  the  deluge  of  iniquities 
whica  overflows  the  world.' 


108 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 


CHAPTER     XIX. 


PAUL  FALLS  IN  LOVE. 

ENERABLE  chief,  here  I 
recall  painful  recollections. 
The  mysterious  day  arose 
on  which  I  was  to  date  the 
sacrifice  of  myself  to  God, 
but  from  which  are  dated 
horrible  sufferings,  that 
cause  me  to  relapse  into 
my  former  state.  Then  I 
had  never  loved. 

"  It  was  the  morning  of 
a  great  festival.  I  thought- 
fully made  my  prepara- 
tions, took  the  road  to  the 
monastery,  and  on  my  way 
passed  before  a  church. 
At  that  moment  the  ring- 
ing of  bells  summoned  the  faithful  to  the  house  of 
God.  A  ceremony  was  about  to  commence.  Curios- 
ity arrested  my  steps,  and  I  contemplated  a  great  crowd, 
hurriedly  collecting.  The  touching  simplicity  of  the 
common  people,  and  the  religious  and  thoughtful  air 
of  some  pious  ladies,  charmed  me.  I  was  insensible 
to  the  grace  and  beauty  of  the  young  Neapolitans,  and 
saw  with  contempt  the  splendor  of  the  equipages,  the 
elegance  and  beauty  of  the  toilets. 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  109 

"  Suddenly  a  young  girl  appeared  near  me.  At  the 
sight  of  her  1  was  immovable ;  my  heart  beat  with 
sweet  and  indescribable  emotions.  She  penetrated  the 
crowd,  and  disappeared.  I  felt  she  had  already  robbed 
my  soul  of  its  peace  and  liberty.  In  passing,  the  beau- 
tiful unknown  had  invested  me  with  the  livery  of  sla- 
very —  the  golden  chain  of  love.  I  followed,  and 
sought  her  in  the  church,  and  knelt  near  her.  At 
that  moment  the  organ  began  to  breathe,  and  fill  with 
its  deep  and  melodious-  tones  the  immense  church. 
Seraphic  voices  in  charming  harmony  sang  a  hymn  of 
praise  to  the  Eternal.  Levites  in  white  tunics  slowly 
advanced  into  the  sanctuary,  bearing  in  their  hands 
symbolic  lights  and  numerous  censers ;  others  with 
golden  insignia,  followed  by  white-haired  priests,  who 
came  to  assist  at  the  sacrifice.  After  these  came  the 
pontiff,  who  was  to  officiate  at  the  holy  sacrifice,  robed 
in  cloth  of  gold.  One  hand  rested  on  the  crosier,  glit- 
tering with  precious  stones ;  and  with  the  other,  on 
which  shone  a  ring  set  with  diamonds,  he  gave  his 
blessing  to  the  congregation.  Arriving  at  the  foot  of 
the  altar,  he  mounted  the  steps,  and  was  enveloped  in 
clouds  of  incense,  curling  up  towards  heaven.  Then 
he  asked  of  the  Almighty  the  fire  which  purified  the 
lips  of  Isaiah ;  bowed  under  the  weight  of  the  sins 
and  transgressions  of  the  people ;  struck  his  breast 
thrice,  to  represent  to  God  the  general  contrition ;  then 
offered  the  sacrifice. 

"  The  crowd  silently  passed  out,  but  I  had  not  offered 

one  of  my  thoughts  to  God.     I  was  prostrate ;  yet  I 

had  not  addressed  him  one  prayer.     I  had  adored,  but 

it  was  a  strange  divinity.     She  alone  had  fixed  my 

10 


110  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

gaze  ;  to  her  alone  had  I  prayed  in  my  inmost  heart ; 
to  her  alone  had  I  offered  sacrifice.  My  offering  was 
agreeable  to  her,  for  I  obtained  a  look,  a  smile ;  and 
afterwards  she  wrote  me  these  words,  so  much  desired 
by  my  heart,  and  so  delightful  to  my  soul,  "  I  love 
you" 

"I  went  no  more  to  the  monastery.  I  forgot  the 
monk,  my  family,  God,  and  myself.  I  even  forgot  my 
own  existence.  At  the  thought  of  her  I  loved,  I  became 
intoxicated  by  a  delicious  delirium.  I  bore  with  me 
in  my  solitude  her  image,  her  voice,  her  eyes,  her 
smiles,  her  tears,  her  charms.  I  felt  nothing  in  my 
heart  but  her  and  her  love.  I  said  to  myself,  '  How 
proud  you  would  be  to  possess  her !  How  happy  to 
be  united  to  her !  What  else  could  you  wish  for  ? 
Earth  would  be  a  paradise !  Would  you  have  any 
thing  to  envy  in  the  bliss  of  heaven  ?  '  Alas  !  my  in- 
toxication was  of  short  duration.  An  unknown,  whom, 
notwithstanding  my  researches,  I  have  never  been  able 
to  see  again,  gave  me  secretly  a  small  box,  and  then 
withdrew  before  I  could  speak  to  him.  I  hastily 
opened  it.  What  was  my  surprise,  when  I  discovered 
it  contained  a  golden  heart  and  a  lock  of  hair  ! " 

When  Paul  uttered,  these  words,  Julia  grew  pale  ; 
the  expression  of  her  eyes  changed,  and  she  fixed  a 
penetrating  look  upon  him.  He  perceived  it,  and  was 
surprised,  but  continued :  — 

"  At  first  my  happiness  was  extreme ;  but  one  painful 
thought  soon  forced  itself  upon  my  mind,  and  dissi- 
pated my  illusion.  '  She  has  quitted  Naples,'  I  said  ; 
'  and,  leaving,  has  sent  me  this  remembrance.  She 
was  to  me  only  a  shooting  star,  or  a  meteor  bright- 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  1  1  t 

ening  the  heavens.'  I  sought  her  for  a  long  time,  and 
at  length  became  exhausted  by  my  fruitless  efforts.  I 
did  not  see  her  again,  nor  could  I  ascertain  where  she 
had  fixed  her  abode. 

"  Since  then,  God  alone  has  been  the  witness  of  my 
anguish  and  suffering.  I  thought  no  more  of  my  own 
existence  ;  I  suffered  without  feeling  my  pain.  To 
dissipate  my  melancholy,  I  went  to  soirees ;  but  they 
were  irksome  to  me.  I  threw  myself  into  the  vortex 
of  past  pleasures ;  but  I  found  only  bitterness.  The 
theatre,  for  a  time,  seemed  to  charm  and  lull  my  grief; 
but  leaving  it,  I  found  myself  in  a  frightful  gulf;  it 
only  aggravated  the  disease  which  was  destroying  me ; 
like  oil,  it  revived  the  flame  which  was  consuming  me. 
I  fled  the  tumultuous  city ;  retired  into  solitude ;  but 
there  also  I  bore  my  chains  ;  and  when  I  endeavored  to 
cast  them  off,  they  fell  more  heavily  upon  my  heart. 


112 


PAUL    AND    JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

PAUL'S  DBEAMS  OF  LOTE. 

NE  evening,  sad  and  mus- 
ing, I  strolled  along  the 
quay.  It  was  near  the 
close  of  day ;  the  lights 
burned  brightly.  Vesuvi- 
us flooded  the  bay,  some- 
times with  a  reddish,  then 
a  sombre,  and  then  a  bril- 
liant light.  Fishing  boats 
in  full  sail  were  enter- 
ing the  port,  and  several 
ships,  with  their  furled 
sails,  slowly  gliding  among 
the  lines.  The  sailors  had 
deserted  the  sailyarda ; 
they  no  longer  made  the 
capstan  creak,  relieving  themselves  by  their  monoto- 
nous songs,  nor  with  the  united  efforts  of  their  strong 
arms  lifted  heavy  burdens  on  the  deck.  With  their 
numerous  oars  they  hastened  to  the  shore,  and  joyful 
with  the  thought  of  the  evening's  pleasure,  sang  in  an 
harmonious  choir  some  lovely  couplets  of  an.  Italian 
song.  It  was  the  hour  of  cessation  from  labor ;  all 
became  still. 

»"  I  then  cast  my  eyes   upon  the  sea ;   the   surface 
thereof  was  slightly  ruffled  by  the  breeze.     Thoughts  as 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  113 

strange  as  irresistible  beset  my  mind.  How  happy  I 
should  be,  I  said,  to  find  her  again.  We  would  fly  on 
these  billows.  Immensity  would  open  its  arms  to  us. 
We  should  be  secure  from  the  tyranny  of  mortals.  We 
would  soon  land  at  some  hospitable  shore ;  or,  if 
Heayen  should  be  unpropitious,  the  same  bosom  would 
shroud  our  loves.  If  one  of  the  cities  of  Europe  would 
give  us  an  asylum,  my  mother  would  pity  our  suffer- 
ings, and  make  our  days  flow  happily.  Should  we  bo 
conveyed  to  some  solitary  shore,  that  spot  would  be 
our  universe.  My  own  hands  would  procure  the  daily 
food  for  her  I  love.  My  life  should  be  spent  in  charm- 
ing her  solitude  ;  and  when  years  would  have  emptied 
the  cup  of  our  love,  the  sarr-e  tomb  would  receive  us. 

"  So  great  was  my  delirium,  that  this  imaginary  idea 
for  a  moment  consoled  my  grief.  I  returned  home, 
flattering  myself  with  this  vain  thought,  that  one  day 
my  dream  would  be  realized. 

"  On  my  arrival,  I  received  a  letter  from  my  mother, 
advising  me  to  leave  Naples,  and  return  to  her. 
10* 


114 


PAUL   AND   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


PAUL    IN    ATHENS. 

'IMMEDIATELY  left  Na- 
ples,and  after  a  short  voyage 
arrived  at  Athens.  I  found 
my  mother  still  inconsola- 
ble for  the  death  of  my  fa- 
ther, and  my  whole  family  in 
deep  affliction.  On  behold- 
ing me,  my  mother  burst 
into  tears ;  deep  sobs  choked 
her  utterance  ;  she  threw 
herself  into  my  arms,  and 
for  some  time  gave  vent  to 
j  her  grief. 

"  This  heart-rending  scene, 
[the  mourning  apparel,  the 
loneliness  of  the  domestic 
hearth,  the  sight  of  the  tomb 
of  my  father,  where  I  daily  went  to  pray,  and  above  all 
the  despair  of  never  seeing  the  girl  I  loved,  plunged  me 
into  a  deep  melancholy.  My  mother  strove  for  a  long 
time,  but  in  vain,  to  console  and  divert  me. 

"  One  day  she  accompanied  me  to  the  house  of  one  of 
my  father's  friends.  We  found  his  daughter  playing 
upon  the  harp ;  the  chords  trembled  harmoniously  under 
her  touch.  She  sang  these  words  of  the  prophet :  '  By 
the  rivers  of  Babylon  there  we  sat  down,  yea,  and  we 


PAUL   AXD   JUUA.  115 

wept  when  we  remembered  Zion.  "We  hanged  our  harps 
upon  the  willows  in  the  midst  thereof.  For  there  they 
that  carried  us  away  captive  required  of  us  a  song ; 
and  they  that  wasted  us  required  of  us  mirth,  say- 
ing, Sing  us  one  of  the  songs  of  Zion.  How  shall 
we  sing  the  Lord's  song  in  a  strange  land  ?  ' 

"  Her  voice  was  angelic  ;  her  fingers  made  the  senti- 
ments expressed  in  this  sacred  poetry  flow  like  waves 
upon  the  chords.  Her  azure  eyes  were  raised  to  heaven, 
her  mouth  and  all  her  countenance  reflected  the  inspi- 
ration of  her  soul.  The  tears  that  flowed  down  her 
cheeks  betrayed  the  feelings  of  her  heart;  the  words 
falling  from  her  lips  seemed  symbolical ;  every  thing 
about  her  indicated  some  mysterious  sentiment,  the 
ardor  of  all  that  was  burning  and  concealed  in  a  soli- 
tary love.  She  had  felt  as  I  had  felt,  she  had  suffered 
as  I  had  done.  There  was  such  an  identity  between 
her  soul  and  mine ;  I  was  so  frantically  happy  in  my 
grief,  that,  seeing  her,  I  thought  I  beheld  my  best  be- 
loved, not  suspecting  that  I  was  deluded.  After  that 
I  visited  her  frequently.  Near  her  I  was  raptured; 
I  was  supremely  happy.  But  soon  my  eyes  undeceived 
me ;  she  no  longer  resembled  my  loved  one.  In  vain 
I  saw  her  ravishing  beauty,  her  admirable  spirit,  and 
her  glowing  heart ;  I  no  longer  loved  her.  I  relapsed 
into  sadness  and  melancholy.  My  mother  —  who, 
wishing  by  this  union  to  have  me  established  near  her, 
had  encouraged  this  love  —  expressed  to  me  her  dis- 
pleasure. I  then  told  her  that,  during  my  sojourn  in 
Naples,  another  woman  had  won  my  heart.  In  vain 
she  pictured  to  me  the  riches,  the  honors,  the  felicity 
this  union  would  give  me.  I  implored  her  to  allow  me 


116  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

to  return  to  Naples,  seek  the  one  I  loved,  unite  myself 
to  her,  and  return  to  be  her  support  and  consolation. 
She  opposed  me  for  some  time  ;  but  finding  me  reso- 
lute, she  finally  consented 


PAUL   AND   JULIA. 


117 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

PAUL    COMES    AGAIN    TO    NAPLES. HE    MEETS    WIXK 

FATHER    FHANCIS. 

ENERABLE  chief,  during 
several  months  I  wandered 
through  the  streets,  fre- 
quented the  public  squares, 
the  churches,  and  theatres 
of  Naples.  I  sought  every 
where,  but  never  met  the 
woman  I  loved.  I  then  lost 
all  hope. 

"  One  day  Father  Francis 
came  to  me. 

"«  At  length,'  he  said,  'I 
meet  you,  and  can  rejoice. 
My  son  was  dead,  and  he  is 
come  again  to  life.  I  had 
lost  you,  and  to-day  I  have 
found  you.  Explain  to  me 
why  you  do  not  come  to  the  convent,  and  why  you 
have  not  visited  me  for  so  long.' 

"  I  cast  down  my  eyes,  blushed,  and  remained  without 
in  answer.  I  then  recollected  all  that  he  had  done 
Cor  the  salvation  of  my  soul,  particularly  my  resolution 
of  entering  into  religion,  which  he  had  imposed  upon 
me  as  a  sacred  obligation,  and  I  still  had  forgot.  I 
related  to  him  my  encounter  with  a  girl  when  I  wse 


118  PAUL  AND   JULIA. 

going  to  the  monastery ;  the  passion  which  she  had 
kindled  in  me  ;  my  departure,  and  my  sojourn  in  Ath- 
ens ;  the  circumstances  of  my  coming  back  to  Naples ; 
the  disappearance  of  the  girl  whom  I  loved ;  my 
searches  to  find  her,  and  my  despair  in  foreseeing  that 
my  love  would  never  be  crowned. 

"  Whilst  I  related  these  circumstances,  I  saw  his  face 
turning  alternately  pale,  fiery,  expressing  stupefaction, 
indignation,  and  sorrow.  When  I  ceased  to  speak,  he 
did  not  utter  a  single  word,  but  remained  silent  and 
thoughtful.  After  a  moment,  he  addressed  me  with 
animation :  — 

"  '  O  God  !  how  monstrous  your  prevarications  have 
been  !  What !  You  have  loved  a  woman,  and  still 
love  her  ?  An  impure  flame  consumes  your  heart  ? 
A  woman,  that  personified  devil,  has  expelled  God 
from  your  soul,  and  you  have  therein  erected  to  her 
a  throne  whereupon  she  reigns  ?  I  explain  to  myself 
the  sins  of  the  flesh,  the  brutal  passion ;  for  the 
doctors  of  the  church  and  the  theologians  admit  at- 
tenuating circumstances.  Jesus  Christ  himself  has 
said,  "  The  spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is 
weak."  But  the  love  of  woman  !  Heaven  !  what  dis- 
organization !  what  depravation  of  the  whole  man  !  It 
is  written,  "  The  Lord  thy  God  is  a  jealous  God  among 
you."  St.  Paul  says,  "  By  one  man  sin  entered  into 
the  world,  and  death  by  sin."  And  who  induced  Adam 
to'sin?  Eve.  Has  not  Bathsheba  seduced  the  holy 
King  David  ?  Has  not  woman  betrayed  Samson,  put 
Mm  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  caused  his  death  ? 
Is  not  woman  compared  to  a  serpent  by  all  the  mys- 
tical authors  ?  "  Her  eyes  are  charming,"  they  write, 


PAUL   AND  JULIA.  119 

'•  but  they  give  death."  Has  St.  Paul  spoken  of  love, 
when  he  taught  the  faithful  on  marriage  ?  No.  He 
used  only  the  word  charity. 

"  '  Judge  by  your  own  experience  to  what  an  extent 
woman  can  waste  a  heart.  By  the  precious  gift  of  ab- 
solution, you  were  in  peace  with  your  conscience ;  and 
now  you  are  much  more  culpable  than  you  had  ever 
been.  God  by  my  voice  called  you  to  the  religious 
life,  and  you  have  not  listened  to  him ;  you  went  so 
far  in  your  rebellion  against  him  as  to  lose  even  the 
recollection  of  your  holy  resolutions.' 

"  '  But,  my  father,  how  great  is  my  astonishment !  I 
did  not  suspect  I  had  sinned.  I  thought  that  the  love 
of  man  for  woman  is  a  law  of  the  Creator.  I  loved  a 
woman  merely  because  I  saw  in  her  some  image  or 
emanation  of  the  loveliness  of  God.' 

" '  Love  is  the  most  infamous  of  the  prostitutions, 
for  our  body  is  merely  matter  and  flesh ;  but  the  heart 
is  a  spirit,  and  an  image  of  the  Deity.  Love  is  one  of 
the  greatest  among  the  greatest  crimes  :  and  if  you  do 
not  renounce  the  love  of  the  creature  to  love  exclusive- 
ly the  Creator ;  if  you  do  not  accompany  me,  confess 
your  sins,  repent  them,  and  obtain  their  pardon  by  ab- 
solution ;  if  you  do  not  make  penance,  and  do  not 
listen  to  the  voice  of  God  addressed  to  you  by  my 
mouth,  and  espouse  the  religious  life,  I  cannot  but 
tremble  for  your  future.' 

"  '  My  father,  undoubtedly  I  have  sinned,  for  you 
say  so  ;  but  in  spite  of  my  will  I  cannot  believe  it. 
My  reason  and  my  heart  teach  me  too  clearly  that  love 
is  not  sinful.  St.  Paul  himself  has  said,  "  Husbands, 
love  your  wives." ' 


120  PA.TTL   AND   JULIA. 

"  *  Well ;  but  he  has  added,  "  Even  as  Christ  also 
loved  the  church,  and  gave  himself  for  it."  But  it  is 
ttot  a  question  of  reason,  of  heart,  even  of  the  gospel, 
for  are  not  we  priests  commissioned  by  God  to  ex- 

*»laiTl   it  ?  ' 

"  Isram,  the  utterance  of  Father  Francis  impressed 
me  so  deeply,  that  in  a  moment  I  felt  I  was  another 
«ian.  I  accompanied  him,  confessed  my  sins,  received 
absolution,  and  buried  myself  in  solitude  to  pray  and 
meditate.  After  that,  and  ia  lieu  of  my  great  agita- 
tion, a  holy  calm  filled  my  soul.  Though  love  was 
powerful  in  iny  Heart,  I  hearkened  to  the  voice  of 
religion ;  and  1  felt  that  God  had  resumed  his  reign  in 
my  heart.  I  then  thought  again  of  the  Christian  du- 
ties I  had  abandoned,  and  of  my  design  to  enter  a 
»eligious  life.  I  felt  that  I  had  been  the  sport  of  my 
imagination .  and  the  victim  of  my  heart ;  that  I  had 
not  been  faithful  to  the  grace  of  God  ;  that  the  love 
of  the  creature  had  estranged  me  from  the  love  of  the 
Creator ;  and  that  I  had  not  suffered  sufficiently  be- 
muse of  this.  Where  God  is  not  the  first  in  our 
nearts,  there  is  disorganization ;  and  where  this  is, 
vhere  is  no  peace  —  nothing  but  suffering.  „ 

"  One  day,  crossing  a  public  square,  I  saw  at  a  short 
4istance  a  lady  whom  I  believed  to  be  the  girl  I  thought 
1  had  ceased  to  love.  I  ran  to  assure  myself,  but  she 
was  lost  in  the  crowd ;  I  saw  her  no  more. 

"  This  incident  produced  a  frightful  tempest  in  my 
soul.  A  frantic  start  of  joy  agitated  my  frame  ;  the 
joy  of  my  heart  was  intoxication,  or  rather  madness. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  I  should  certainly  meet  her 
flgain  ;  that  she  would  preserve  her  heart  for  me  ;  and 


3PA.UL   AND   JULIA.  121 

that,  in  sending  nie  a  souvenir,  she  showed  she  did  not 
wish  to  bid  me  an  eternal  adieu,'1 

When  Paul  pronounced  these  last  words,  tears  mois- 
tened the  eyelids  of  Julia.  He  remarked  it,  stopped 
an  instant,  and  in  an  agitated  voice  continued,  — 

"  Recollections  then  besieged  my  memory;  the  num- 
ber and  impetuosity  of  my  thoughts  transported  my 
rnind^  I  even  neglected  to  struggle,  but  gave  free  vent 
to  my  imagination.  This  was  my  misfortune. 

"  The  discourses  of  the  monk,  which  before  had  ap- 
peared to  me  so  wise  and  so  true,  now  seemed  but  a 
tissue  of  exaggerations  and  errors.  The  circumstances 
of  my  conversion  to  God,  which  I  had  regarded  as  aston- 
ishing, were  now  but  dreams  and  illusions.  The  world 
seemed  the  abode  of  happiness.  Affection,  family,  the 
tenderness  of  my  mother's  love,  and  hymen  presented 
charms  to  me  before  unknown.  The  present  filled  the 
measure  of  my  desires,  and  the'future  realized  my  hopes. 
The  cloister,  on  the  contrary,  appeared  sad  and  terrible 
as  the  grave  :  the  sombre  dress,  the  silence,  the  fasts, 
the  haircloth,  the  discipline  inspired  me  with  aversion 
and  horror. 

"  '  After  all,'  thought  I,  '  in  the  world  salvation  is 
possible,  and  I  will  reap  its  happiness.'  Still  this  sud- 
den change  alarmed  me.  I  went  to  my  director ;  told 
him  of  the  occurrence  which  had  taken  place  ;  related 
to  him  my  trouble,  the  greatness  of  my  joy,  the  deliri- 
um of  happiness  which  had  given  me  hope,  the  reflec- 
tions I  had  made  upon  his  discourses,  and  my  aversion 
to  a  religious  life. 

"  He  listened  to  me  kindly,  and  spoke  to  me  thus  :  — 

"  '  The  oak  grows  only  in  the  region  of  storms.  Gold 
11 


122  PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

is  purified  only  in  the  crucible.  Man  becomes  strong 
and  vigorous  only  by  passing  through  the  fire  of  adver- 
sity. The  sailor  becomes  mariner  only  in  the  tempest. 
Soldiers  become  warriors  only  on  the  field  of  battle. 
You,  who  wish  to  grow  to  the  height  of  virtue,  ought 
to  be  convinced  that  you  will  only  take  root  by  being 
exposed  to  the  winds  of  adversity.  You  are  called  by 
God  to  be  a  wall  of  brass  before  opposition,  to  sustain 
the  battles  of  the  Lord,  and  to  pilot  your  brothers  on 
the  ocean  of  the  world.  It  is,  then,  necessary  to  prove 
yourself  a  warrior,  and  be  instructed  in  the  school  of 
temptation.  It  is  the  road  pointed  out  by  Jesus  Christ 
to  his  disciples.  He  conquered,  and  through  him  you 
will  conquer  ;  but  for  that  watch  and  pray.  The  angel 
of  darkness  transforms  himself  before  you  into  an  angel 
of  light,  and  you  are  deceived  by  this  fallacious  light. 
He  spread  under  your  feet  nets  full  of  craftiness  and 
perfidy,  which  have  caused  not  only  neophytes,  but  he- 
roes of  virtue,  to  fall.  The  greatest  saints  feared,  and 
fled  into  solitude  to  avoid  them.  Still  in  the  depths 
of  their  retreat  they  heard  the  voice  of  the  sirens,  and 
felt  its  influence. 

"  '  St.  Jerome  retired  into  a  corner  of  Palestine  : 
there  he  subdued  his  body,  and  suppressed  his  sensi- 
bility ;  still,  when  he  saw  the  Roman  ladies,  the  sight 
of  them  touched  his  heart,  and  shook  his  judgment. 

"  '  St.  Augustine  withdrew  into  a  silent  retreat  in 
Africa,  lived  retired  from  the  world  and  its  seductions, 
but  still  he  dreamed  of  the  woman  he  loved. 

" '  St.  Mary  of  Egypt,  though  buried  in  a  desert 
oeyond  the  Jordan,  could  not  drown  by  her  tears  of 
repentance  the  charming  recollections  of  her  former 
loves. 


PATTL  AND   JULIA.  128 

"  '  How  many  apostles,  martyrs,  and  confessors,  had, 
by  means  of  mortification  and  labor,  to  repulse  these 
seductive  images ! 

"  '  Your  perils  are  imminent ;  of  this  you  can  judge 
by  the  troubles  which  these  assaults  have  produced  in 
your  mind  and  heart.  Thanks  be  given  to-  divine 
mercy,  you  have  come  to  his  minister  to  be  enlightened 
and  fortified  ;  but  experience  will  teach  you  that  you 
will  have  new  attacks  to  sustain.  Struggle,  then, 
against  them,  and  come  to  the  priest  whom  God  has 
commissioned  to  guard  your  soul.  Listen  to  and  fol- 
low his  counsel ;  your  obedience  will  be  your  pledge 
of  victory,  for  it  is  written,  "  He  that  heareth  you  hear- 
eth  me ;  he  that  despiseth  you  despiseth  me."  The 
obedient  man  gains  the  victory.  Since  God  calls  you 
to  a  religious  life,  harden  not  your  heart,  but  be  atten- 
tive to  my  voice.  Cast  aside  human  considerations ; 
strive  against  the  remembrance  of  love,  which  is  de- 
stroying the  peace  of  your  soul,  and  may  endanger 
your  salvation.  Walk  with  firmness  and  constancy  in 
the  path  of  virtue,  and  when  I  deem  your  heart  is  suf- 
ficiently disengaged  from  the  things  of  the  world,  the 
doors  of  the  monastery  will  be  open  to  you.  As  soon 
as  they  shall  be  closed  upon  you,  the  world  will  be  to 
you  as  if  it  existed  not ;  you  Avill  forget  the  remem- 
brance of  it.  This  place  of  refuge  will  be  to  you  a 
heaven,  where  nothing  will  trouble  the  repose  and  se- 
renity of  your  soul.' 

"  '  Father,'  said  I,  '  if,  after  having  entered  into  a 
religious  life,  I  have  always  before  my  eyes  the  woman 
whom  I  loved,  my  mother,  my  family,  and  society,  in 
the  bosom  of  which  I  could  have  been  saved,  what 


124  PAUL   AND   JtTLIA. 

will  be  my  despair!  My  regrets  will  be  without 
remedy.' 

"  '  Fear  not.  God  will  permit  these  things  to  advance 
you  in  perfection.  The  devil  will  disturb  the  peace  of 
your  soul  with  dangerous  recollections  ;  but  by  prayer 
you  will  conquer.  It  is  said,  "  Ask  and  it  shall  be 
given  you."  Prayer  penetrates  the  heavens.  If  you 
have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  you  can  remove 
mountains.  Moreover,  cast  your  eyes  around  you,  and 
see  that  he  extends  the  mantle  of  his  providence  to 
every  being  who  raises  to  him  the  prayer  of  humility. 
If  he  lets  the  plant  be  parched  by  the  heat  of  the 
summer  sun,  he  sends  the  dews  to  refresh  its  stems  and 
beautify  its  petals  with  the  richest  colors.  If  he  leaves 
the  onager  to  wander  thirsty  in  the  desert,  instinct 
teaches  him  to  scrape  the  sands,  and  to  cause  fountains 
to  spring  up  to  qxiench  his  thirst.' 

"  «  But  my  family  ? ' 

"  '  The  parents  of  man  are  his  enemies ;  the  most 
pious  saints  have  renounced  them.' 

"  '  My  mother  will  die  of  sorrow.' 

"  '  Do  you  know  not  that  Christ  said  to  one  of  his 
apostles,  "  Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead  "  ?  ' 

"  '  She  will  come  to  compel  me  to  leave  the  mon- 
astery.' 

"  '  It  shall  not  be  in  her  power.  Moreover,  know 
and  keep  well  in  your  mind  that  the  Cardinal  Bellar- 
mine  and  the  most  celebrated  Catholic  divines  of  our 
holy  church  teach  that  a  son  may,  and  consequently 
must,  kill  his  father  and  mother,  when  they  oppose  his 
divine  calling.' 

"  '  What !  reverend  father  ?     I  shudder.' 


PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

"  '  I  am  not  surprised  at  it.  You  are  not  yet  a  true 
disciple  of  Christ.  You  have  not  yet  meditated  on 
these  words  fallen  from  his  mouth :  "  Children  shall 
rise  up  against  their  parents,  and  shall  cause  them  to 
be  put  to  death."  ' 

"  '  Revered  father,  your  interpretation  of  the  words 

of  Christ  rebels  my  reason  and  my  heart ;  still,  as  you 

speak  to  me  in  the  name  of  God,  I  must  believe.     But 

I  will  not  dare  give  my  mother  the  intelligence  of  my 

^entrance  into  religion.' 

"  '  Do  not  write  to  her.' 

"  '  Not  explaining  to  her  the  prolongation  of  my  so- 
journ in  Naples,  she  will  recall  me  to  the  maternal 
house.' 

"  '  If  it  happens,  you  shall  write  to  her  that  you  are 
managing  your  marriage  with  the  woman  whom  you 
love.' 

"  '  It  will  be  a  lie.' 

"  '  Certainly  not.  St.  Liguori  and  the  most  cele- 
brated theologians  hold  the  opposite  doctrine.  Jesus 
Christ  himself  teaches  us  in  his  gospel,  that  only 
*'  those  things  defile  the  man  which  come  from  the 
heart."  Besides,  our  intentions  sanctify  our  words  and 
deeds ;  and  more,  I  am  a  priest,  and  speak  to  you  in 
the  name  of  God,  who  has  said,  "  He  that  heareth  you 
heareth  me  ;  he  that  despiseth  you  despiseth  me." 
Have  confidence,  then.  Remember  that  God,  who 
orders  you  to  embrace  the  religious  life,  will  give  you 
the  means  to  be  faithful  to  this  vocation.' 
11* 


126 


PAUL    AND    JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


PAUL  S    DESPAIK. 

ENERABLE  chief,  an- 
other day  approached, 
on  which  I  was  to  quit 
the  world,  consecrate 
myself  to  God,  and 
devote  myself  to  the 
apostleship.  Stormy 
thoughts  agitated  my 
mind,  and  an  in- 
describable bitterness 
filled  my  heart.  God 
willed  still  that  I 
should  sustain  again  a 
horrible  combat.  The 
religious  life  and  the  world,  devotion  and  the  senses, 
apostleship  and  love,  disputed  with  my  soul.  I  re- 
sisted for  some  time ;  but  the  struggle  exhausted  my 
strength  ;  I  fell  conquered,  and  yielded  to  despair. 
'  Die,'  thought  I,  '  since  you  live  only  to  suffer,  and 
God  comes  not  to  your  aid  !  He  cannot  be  a  tyrant ; 
he  will  be  touched  by  your  sufferings.  Is  he  not  a 
father  to  his  children?  Would  he  be  a  tiger,  thirst- 
ing for  their  blood,  I  shall  have  but  hastened  my 
eternity  of  misery.  Why  should  I  remain  upon  the 
earth,  where  I  shall  live  but  a  life  of  trials  and  suf- 
ferings ? ' 


FA.T7X.    AXD    JULIA.  127 

**  I  convulsively  wrote  my  last  wishes  ;  penned  a  few 
hasty  lines  to  console  my  mother,  and  inform  her  of 
iny  death;  calmly  seized  a  poniard,  and  directed  my 
steps  towards  a  lonely  place. 

"  In  the  anguish  of  my  soul,  I  had  lost  my  way,  and 
was  surprised  to  find  myself  alone  on  the  sea  shore. 
*  Well,'  thought  I,  '  death  will  be  to  me  easier  and  more 
certain  ;  the  waves  will  bury  my  body  and  my  griefs.' 
Disrobing  myself,  I  felt  upon  my  breast  the  pledge  of 
love,  for  me  a  token  so  soft  and  bitter,  and  an  image 
of  the  Virgin,  that  my  mother  had  hung  around  my 
neck  on  the  day  of  our  separation.  A  sigh  escaped  me  ; 
my  agony  became  extreme,  and  I  fell  into  a  profound 
lethargy.  I  imagined  myself  exposed  in  a  frail  bark 
upon  the  ocean,  in  impenetrable  darkness.  Around 
me  the  sea  arose  in  angry  surges.  Unable  to  find  the 
shore,  I  was  about  to  yield  myself  to  the  mercy  of  the 
waves,  when  the  woman  I  adored  appeared  to  me  in 
the  distance,  surrounded  by  a  bright  light.  '  Look  at 
me,'  she  said ;  '  I  will  be  your  guide,'  At  the  sight  of 
her,  I  trembled  with  delight  and  hope.  I  directed  my 
course  towards  her ;  but  the  nearer  I  approached,  the 
more  the  waves  increased,  and  she  disappeared.  In 
despair  I  quitted  the  helm,  and  awaited  death, 

"  Another  luminous  object  attracted  my  attention. 
I  recognized  my  mother.  I  heard  her  voice,  saying, 
'  My  dear  Paul,  come  to  me  ;  I  will  save  you.'  I  im- 
mediately regained  confidence  and  courage,  and  I  seized 
the  helm ;  but  the  waves  again  increased,  and  the  light 
vanished  ;  I  no  longer  saw  my  mother.  Disheartened, 
I  abandoned  the  bark  to  the  mercy  of  the  waves. 

"  I  was  about  to   sink,  when  I  saw  through  the 


128  FAUJ,    AXD    JULIA. 

clouds  a  transparent  light ;  it  increased,  and  a  woman, 
beautiful  as  a  divinity,  appeared  above  the  foaming 
waves,  borne  on  curling  clouds  of  light.  She  wore  a 
tunic  of  dazzling  whiteness ;  her  face  beamed  with 
celestial  light ;  her  look  was  mild,  her  smile  gracious. 
She  said  to  me,  in  a  soft  voice,  which  was  heard  above 
the  roaring  of  the  waves,  '  My  son,  I  am  the  star  of  the 
sea ;  the  relief  of  the  shipwrecked :  I  am  the  mother 
of  God.  Have  confidence  ;  come  to  me,  and  I  will 
conduct  you  to  the  port.  I  will  be  your  compass  upon 
the  raging  sea  of  life.'  And  I  felt  a«  it  were  a  hand 
of  fire  engraving  on  my  heart  the  steadfast  resolution 
of  embracing  the  religious  life.  I  felt  a  superhuman 
strength  arise  in  me.  As  I  directed  my  bark  towards 
her,  the  tempest  subsided,  the  waves  became  calm, 
and  I  soon  regained  the  shore.  She  disappeared. 

"  "When  I  recovered  my  senses,  I  found  myself  pros- 
trate on  the  earth.  I  heard  a  familiar  voice  saying  to 
Hie,  '  Arise  ! '  It  was  the  monk,  standing  near  me. 
I  related  to  him  my  despair,  and  the  dream  of  my  im- 
agination. His  face  became  radiant ;  his  eyes  kin- 
dled ;  and  he  said  to  me  in  transport,  '  Fall  on  your 
knees,  and  return  thanks  to  God.  That  which  you 
call  a  dream  of  the  imagination  is  a  peculiar  grace  of 
God.  My  coming  to  this  place  was  providential.  Do 
not  harden  your  heart.  God  evidently  calls  you  to  the 
religious  life. 

"  '  Then,  in  the  name  of  God,  in  the  name  of  my  au- 
thority as  your  spiritual  father,  in  the  name  of  your 
temporal  happiness,  and  of  the  salvation  of  your  soul, 
I  bid  you  not  defer  to  enter  into  religion.' 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 


129 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 


ENTRANCE  OF  PAUL  INTO  RELIGION. HIS  MOTHER 

CALLS  UPON  HIM. 

OON  after  I  entered   into 
the  monastery,  I  went  to 
the   superior,  who  put   me 
these  questions  :  — 
"  '  Who  are  you  ?  ' 
"  '  A  great  sinner,'  I  re- 
sponded. 

"  '  What  will  you  ? ' 
"  '  To  make  penitence  in 
religion  ;  to   sanctify   my- 
self, and  contribute  to  the 
salvation  of  s.ouls.' 

"  '  Are  you  ready  to  re- 
nounce the  world  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  very  reverend  fa- 
ther.' 

" '  Are  you  ready  to  go  to  the  extremities  of  the 
world  ?  to  accept  all  offices  that  the  superiors  will 
assign  to  you  for  the  glory  of  God,  your  own  sanctifica- 
tion,  and  the  salvation  of  souls  :  ' 

"  '  Yes,  very  reverend  father.' 

"  'Will  you  wear  his  livery  of  ignominy,  bear  unjust- 
ly in  imitation  of  him,  and  for  his  love  endure  hu- 
miliation, false  testimony,  and  injury?  ' 

"  '  Yes,  very  reverend  father.' 


130  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

"  He  kissed  me,  exposed  to  me  the  duties  and  diffi- 
culties of  the  religious  profession,  and  painted  with  en- 
thusiasm its  advantages  and  joys. 

"  He  appointed  for  my  confessor  and  director  Fa- 
ther Francis,  whom.  I  considered  as  my  friend  and  fa- 
ther. Then  I  began  my  novitiate. 

"  The  superior  led  me  into  a  cell,  wherein,  during 
thirty  days,  I  was  to  remember,  in  the  sorrow  of  my 
heart,  the  disorders  of  my  former  years,  meditate  on 
the  importance  of  my  calling,  on  the  means  of  sanctify- 
ing myself,  and  becoming  worthy  of  the  apostlaship. 
He  gave  me  several  counsels,  and  before  going  out  of 
my  cell,  said  to  me,  — 

"  '  My  brother,  in  solitude  God  converses  with  the 
soul,  and  grants  it  his  light.  If  the  earth  is  cursed,  it  is 
only  because  the  people  do  not  reflect  upon  themselves  ; 
it  is  far  from  society  that  the  fire  of  love  kindles  in  the 
soul.  There  our  soul  flies  as  the  eagle,  and  wanders 
in  the  highest  regions  ;  it  contemplates  heaven,  ad- 
mires its  magnificence ;  then,  lowering  its  looks,  it 
contemplates  the  meanness  of  the  earth,  and  her  noth- 
ingness. It  thus  casts  away  the  old  man,  clothes  it- 
self with  the  new  man,  and  starts  out  of  this  cenacle, 
enlightened,  purified,  strong  to  fight  for  God  ;  the  re- 
treat has  generated  the  Christian  heroes,  the  men  of 
God. 

"  '  As  to  me,  when  I  entered  into  religion,  I  became 
soon  familiar  with  solitude,  and  enjoyed  therein  pleas- 
ures unknown  to  the  world. 

"  '  Sometimes  I  felt  a  kind  of  superhuman  power 
which  carried  me  out  far  from  the  earth ;  truth  ap- 
peared to  me  shining,  and  virtue  full  of  charms.  I 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA.  131 

vras  in  a  kind  of  mysterious  sanctuary,  wherein  I  tasted 
a  divine  voluptuousness.' 

"  Having  said  so,  he  bade  me  kneel ;  extended  his 
arm,  and  performed  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  my  head 
to  bless  me. 

"  Isram,  I  will  not  undertake  to  paint  all  I  suf- 
fered during  those  thirty  days  of  trials,  and  the  first 
months  of  my  novitiate.  God  alone  has  witnessed  and 
knows  how  sad  and  bitter  were  my  regrets  and  recol- 
lections ;  how  incessantly  and  reproachfully  I  saw 
before  my  eyes  the  image  of  the  woman  the  love  of 
whom  I  trampled  upon;  my  family,  the  affection  of 
which  I  renounced ;  my  brothers  and  sisters,  whom 
I  abandoned  orphans  and  helpless ;  my  poor  mother, 
whose  heart  and  existence  I  broke  down,  the  grave 
of  whom  I  had  opened.  The  monks,  to  console  and 
strengthen  me,  lavished  on  me  the  most  encouraging 
words,  the  most  affectionate  regards  and  caresses  ;  but 
all  was  useless.  Would  I  had  not  believed  that  I  was 
bound  to  obey  them  as  God,  as  if  they  had  been  him- 
self ;  I  would  have  instantly  left  the  convent. 

"  One  morning  the  reverend  father  superior  an- 
nounced the  arrival  of  my  mother.  '  Be  strong  against 
flesh  and  blood,'  he  told  me  ;  '  keep  yourself  constant- 
ly in  the  presence  of  God.  Remember  that  if  you  are 
vanquished,  you  sacrifice  your  dearest  interests  for  the 
present  and  future  life.  Your  mother  will  be  to  you  a 
fascinating  serpent ;  beware  then  of  her  seductions. 
Speak  very  little,  and  be  cautious  in  your  responses.  I 
will  pray  for  you.' 

•'  My  heart  beat  with  indescribable  palpitations.  I 
felt  both  fear  and  joy.  I  descended  to  the  parlor,  and 


132  PAUL   A>TD   JULIA. 

was  about  to  kiss  my  mother,  when  she  with  a  sign  of 
her  hand  repulsed  me,  and  turned  her  head  ;  then  cast- 
ing on  me  fiery  looks,  she  exclaimed,  — 

"  '  Is  it  my  son  whom  I  see  with  this  gown  of 
friar  ?  ' 

"  I  turned  pale,  and  all  my  limbs  were  trembling. 

"  '  My  mother,'  I  answered,  '  be  not  irritated.' 

"  '  Can  I  believe  what  I  see  ?  And  he  is  my  Paul, 
the  son  whom  I  have  loved  so  tenderly  ! ' 

"  '  My  mother,  why  now  treat  that  son  with  so  much 
anger  ? ' 

"  '  You  my  son  ?  ' 

*'  '  Still  you  know  my  feelings  towards  you.' 

"  '  Your  feelings  towards  me  ?     O,  irony  ! ' 

"  I  wished  to  take  her  hand  and  kiss  it,  but  she 
motioned  me  away,  saying,  — 

"  '  As  much  as  I  have  loved  you,  as  much  you  were 
unworthy  of  my  love.' 

"  '  O  my  mother,'  I  answered,  '  why  such  a  harsh- 
ness ? ' 

"  '  You  have  no  longer  a  right  to  my  love.  A  son 
who  casts  away  the  remembrance  of  his  father,  the 
tomb  of  whom  is  still  open,  who  denies  his  memory, 
denies  brothers,  sisters,  denies  his  mother  ! ' 

"  '  O,  no,  my  mother,  I  have  not ' 

"  '  Dare  you  call  me  by  this  name  ?  You  mock 
me ! 

"  '  What  !  your  father  dies,  your  relations  are  in 
the  deepest  affliction,  your  mother  desponding  ;  and 
in  such  circumstances  you  renounce  your  family,  mock 
the'r  sorrow ;  you,  son,  deny  your  mother  ! ' 

"  '  Ah !  could  you  know  my  sentiments  ! ' 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  133 

'• '  Your  sentiments  !    Your  heart  is  harder  than  ada- 
mant !     You  have  unworthily  deceived  me.' 
"  '  God  alone  knows  what  I  have  suffered.' 
"  '  Where  is  that  worshipped  woman,  who,  you  said, 
had  won   your  love,  and    attracted   you   to   Naples  ? 
Where  is  the  project  of  that  marriage  which  was  to 
make  you  so  happy,  to  bring  you  again  to  the  bosom 
,of  your  family,  and  near  your  mother  ?    Hypocrisy  !    It 
was  to  enter  that  convent.     Great  God  !  he  who  was 
to  honor  the  name  of  his  father,  to  be  his  shame  !  he 
who  was  the  glory  of  his  family,  to  be  their  ignominy  ! 
he  who  was  to  be  my  consolation,  ray  pride,  to  be  tho 
cause  of  my  affliction  and  humiliation  !     O,  why  has 
God  permitted  me  to  bear  a  son  that  should  bring  me 
in  sorrow  to  the  grave  ?  ' 

"  '  My  mother,  pray  let  me  justify  myself.' 
"  '  Your  justification  would  be  hypocrisy  and  false- 
hood—  nothing  else.     There  is  no  justification  for  a 
son  who  denies  his  family,  especially  his  mother  ! ' 

"  '  Pray,  listen  to  me.     I  did  not  find  again  in  Na- 
ples the  woman  whom  I  loved,  then.' 

"  '  Why  then  did  you  not  return  home  ?  ' 
"  '  Because  I  resolved  to  embrace  the  religious  life.' 
"  '  Who  gave  you  such  counsel  ?     Undoubtedly  the 
monks.     You  will  not  confess  it ;  but  they  have  been 
your  counsellors.     I  am  not  mistaken.' 

"  '  A  monk,  it  is  true,  has  enlightened  me.' 
"  '  Who  is  the  man  ?     Barbarous  !  seducer  of  a  son ! 
torturer  of  the  heart  of  a  mother  ! ' 

" '  He  told  me  what  was  society,  and  what  the  re- 
ligious life.' 

"  'Does  he  know  society,  to  inform  you  about  it?' 
12 


134  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

"  '  Who  knows  society  better  than  a  man  who  has 
seen  its  bitters  and  its  sweets  ?  Besides,  he  has  lived 
therein  a  long  while.' 

"  '  He  has  exalted  your  imagination,  abused  your 
youth  and  inexperience  !  The  monster  !  Alas  !  could 
he  know  how  much  a  son  costs  his  mother,  the  want 
of  him  that  her  heart  feels ! ' 

"  '  All  that  he  spoke  to  me  was  for  my  own  in- 
terests.' 

"  '  He  has  deceived  you.' 

"  '  On  the  contrary,  he  was  moved  but  by  charity.' 

"  '  You  say  so  because  you  do  not  know  their  hypoc- 
risy. He  spoke  to  you  with  ignorance  and  fanaticism.' 

"  '  No,  my  mother,  it  was  with  simplicity.' 

"  '  As  if  the  monks  were  not  ignorant  and  fanatic  ! ' 

"  '  They  have  told  me  that  what  is  termed  in  society 
ignorance  and  fanaticism  is  the  truth.' 

"  '  Declare,  if  you  dare,  that  that  seducer  did  not  in- 
vite you  to  enter  into  religion.' 

"  '  Had  he  done  it,  it  would  have  been  only  by  zeal, 
and  for  my  eternal  salvation.' 

"  « Then  he  did  ?  ' 

"  '  0  my  mother,  why  put  me  such  a  question  ?  All 
I  may  say  is,  I  had  long  since  resolved  to  enter  into  re- 
ligion.' 

"  '  You  had  for  a  long  while  resolved  to  enter  into 
religion  ?  And  you  do  not  blush  to  tell  me  this  !  The 
monks  must  have  wonderfully  accustomed  you  to  lie, 
that  you  can  prevaricate  with  no  shadow  of  shame.' 

"  «  Still  I  speak  the  truth.' 

"  '  This  is  beyond  endurance  :  you  rebel  against  me  ! 
V  son  abuse  to  such  a  point  his  mother !  mock  so 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  135 

her  credulity !  You  of  course  believe  that  I  have  for- 
gotten that  you  went  to  Naples  only  a  few  months 
ago?' 

"  '  I  had  already  proposed  to  enter  the  monastery 
before  writing  to  you  in  Athens.' 

"  '  And  you  did  not  tell  me  your  intention !  Go, 
heartless  son.  You  tear  the  bosom  that  bore  you  ;  you 
give  death  to  her  who  gave  you  life.  God  will  not 
bless  you.' 

"  Saying  so,  my  mother  glanced  at  me  with  indigna- 
tion. She  was  about  to  leave  hastily  the  parlor,  when 
I  sprang,  and,  my  whole  frame  trembling,  grasped  her 
arms,  and  fell  at  her  knees,  saying,  — 

" '  My  mother,  do  not  curse  a  son  who  loves  you. 
Have  pity  on  him.  Let  me  speak  to  you.' 

"  '  O,  hypocrisy  ! '  exclaimed  she.  '  "Well,  speak, 
and  finish  the  work  of  death.' 

"  '  I  did  not  tell  you  that  my  intention  was  to  en- 
ter into  religion,  because  love  had  made  me  forget  my 
resolution.' 

"  '  Why  then  did  you  come  again  to  your  first  de- 
sign ? ' 

"  '  Because,  having  seen  no  more  the  woman  whom 
I  loved,  I  did  believe  to  be  rid  of  her  love.' 

"  '  Mistake.' 

"  '  Moreover,  because  I  thought  that  my  entrance 
into  religion  was  the  will  of  God.' 

"  '  Another  mistake  —  foolish  fancy.  Why  then 
have  you  not  asked  my  counsel  ?  Why  have  you  en- 
tered the  monastery  without  informing  me  about  your 
determination  ?  Great  God  !  How  little  a  son  un- 
derstands the  heart  of  his  mother  !  How  little  must  his 


136  PAUL   -A.XD    JULIA. 

love  be  for  her,  and  why  did  you  write  to  me  evasive 
letters,  and  not  inform  me  that  you  were  in  the  con- 
vent ? ' 

"  '  O,  my  mother ! ' 

"  '  The  monks  are  those  who  gave  you  such  counsel  ? 
Answer  !     I  understand  it.     They  are  the  hypocrites.' 
*'  '  My  mother,  perhaps  you  are  mistaken.' 
"  '  Why  then  did  you  enter  the  convent  ?  ' 
"  '  Because  I  thought  the  religious  life  would  make 
me  happy  here  below,  and  would  lead  me  more  surely 
to  heaven.' 

"  '  What  blindness  !  In  society  you  will  be  wealthy ; 
and  using  in  a  Christian  manner  the  gifts  of  God,  you 
will  taste  the  purest  enjoyments.  In  society  you  will 
serve  your  country  ;  and  to  serve  one's  country  acquires' 
right  to  its  gratitude,  to  the  esteem  of  one's  fellow- 
citizens.  In  society  you  will  possess  honors  ;  and  hon- 
ors surround  us  with  consideration.  In  society  you  will 
have  a  family  and  a  mother  ;  and  a  family  and  a  mother 
embellish  life  with  great  joys.  In  society  you  will  have 
a  wife.  Ah,  you  cannot  suspect  what  happiness  the  heart 
of  a  wife  affords  !  how  delightful  it  is  to  be  the  support 
of  her  feebleness,  her  defender  ;  to  accompany  her  in 
public ;  to  see  her  admired ;  to  be  proud  of  her  ;  to 
possess  her  hand ;  to  study  her  looks,  her  smile ;  to 
adore  her  beauty  ;  to  rest  on  her  heart ;  to  enlace  one's 
life  with  hers  ;  to  bury  one's  self  in  that  sanctuary  of 
the  fireside,  wherein  the  sole  glance  of  divinity  pen- 
etrates ;  to  have  children  who  are  one's  own  likeness, 
who,  stammering,  dearly  unite  one's  name  with  that  of 
their  mother.  O,  what  delight  and  charms  !  And  you 
believe  that  in  the  religious  life  you  will  be  happier  ? ' 


PAUL   AXD   JtTZIA.  137 

"  '  My  mother,  I  know  that  society  will  afford  me  all 
the  advantages  which  you  enumerate.  But  what  is  the 
present  time  before  eternity  ?  The  religious  life  is  the 
road  which  can  lead  me  therein.' 

"  '  As  if  your  salvation  was  impossible  in  society ! ' 

"  '  I  think  it  is.' 

"  '  My  son,  a  false  zeal  blinds  you  ;  a  false  fear  mis- 
leads you.  Will  you  not  save  yourself  more  easily  in 
the  bosom  of  your  family  than  in  this  convent  among 
ignorant  fanatics  and  superstitious  men  ?  They  are  so 
immoral  that  they  daily  are  drunk,  haunt  houses  x>f  ill 
fame,  and  carry  their  licentiousness  so  far  as  to  disturb 
families.' 

"  '  My  mother,  I  believe  that  many  among  them  are 
virtuous.' 

"  '  Say,  rather,  they  are  more  artful  and  more  hypo- 
critical in  concealing  their  immorality.' 

"  '  Why,  mother,  you  exaggerate  ;  besides,  God  calls 
me  to  the  religious  life.' 

"  '  Illusion.  Has  God  descended  from  heaven  to 
reveal  it  to  you  ?  ' 

"  '  Of  course  not ;  but  he  spoke  to  me  his  will  by 
the  mouth  of  his  ministers.' 

"  '  Has  God  revealed  it  to  them  ?  ' 

"  '  He  has  said  to  his  ministers,  "  He  that  heareth 
you  heareth  me  ;  he  that  despiseth  you  despiseth  me." 
They  have  assured  me  that  I  should  be  damned  re- 
maining in  society ;  that  the  religious  life  is  the  only 
way  which  can  lead  me  to  heaven.  I  ought  to  obey.' 

"  '  You  aver,  at  length,  that  the  monks  have  influenced 
you.  And  you  have  given  faith  to  such  an  imposture, 
to  such  sacrilegious  profanation  of  the  words  of  Jesus 
12* 


138  PAUL   AXD   JULIA. 

Christ  ?  And  you  have  not  seen  that  they  intended  to 
deceive  you,  enrich  themselves  with  your  patrimony, 
and  make  you  their  victim  ?  ' 

"  '  It  was  not  their  intention  ;  moreover,  I  wish  to 
save  myself.' 

"  '  My  son,  you  do  not  know  the  world ;  you  do  not 
suspect  all  the  artfulness  and  perfidy  concealed  under 
the  devout  and  hypocritical  exterior  of  the  monks. 
They  have  unworthily  deceived  you.  Trust  in  the 
word  of  your  mother.' 

"  '  My  mother,  they  have  said  to  me  that  I  must 
obey  God  rather  than  men  —  and  to  obey  them  is  to 
obey  God.' 

"  On  my  answer,  my  mother  remained  as  annihilated. 
She  concealed  her.  face  with  her  hands.  I  saw  her  weep- 
ing. She  suddenly  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  and  ex- 
claimed, — 

"  '  Great  God  !  I  felt  anger  against  my  son,  and  he 
deserves  only  commiseration ! 

"  '  Dear  Paul,  I  have  nursed  you  ;  I  have  watched 
day  and  night  around  your  cradle ;  I  have  taken  care 
of  your  infancy ;  I  have  consented,  for  your  interests, 
to  live  far  from  you.  God  alone  can  appreciate  all  you 
have  cost  me  —  all  which  I  have  suffered  on  account 
of  your  absence.  Nobody,  except  God,  desires  more 
ardently  than  I  to  make  you  happy  for  the  present 
time.  Then  trust  in  my  word.' 

"  '  I  cannot.  I  should  disobey  God.  From  me  it 
would  be  a  crime.' 

"  '  No,  Paul ;  God  obliges  a  son  to  honor  and  obey 
his  mother.' 

"  '  Certainly ;  but  only  when  her  will  is  not  opposed 
to  the  will  of  the  priests.' 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA.  139 

"  '  What  a  misfortune  !  Those  hypocrites  have  mis- 
led my  son  so  far  as  to  stifle  in  him  the  laws  of  God 
and  of  nature. 

"  '  My  dear  Paul,  since  you  are  so  obstinate  that 
nothing  can  convince  you,  at  least  you  will  not  be  in- 
sensible to  the  tears  of  your  mother.' 

"  '  God  alone  knows  what  I  suffer.' 

"  '  Yield  to  filial  tenderness.' 

"  '  Alas  !   I  cannot.' 

"  '  In  the  name  of  my  love  for  you.' 

"  '  O,  my  God ! ' 

"  '  In  the  name  of  your  cradle  and  infancy.  In  the 
name  of  the  gratitude  which  a  son  owes  to  his  mother. 
I  am  your  mother,  and  entreat  my  son.' 

"  '  My  God,  let  me  die  ! ' 

"  '  Look  at  me  !  Do  you  feel  my  lips  on  your  feet, 
and  my  tears  which  water  them  ? ' 

"  '  O,  my  mother,  I  shall  die  ! ' 

"  '  It  is  I  who  will  die.  My  son,  do  you  not  see 
that  if  you  resist,  when  I  leave  you  I  cannot  live  ? ' 

"  '  O  God  !  why  am  I  not  allowed  to  cast  away  the 
teaching  of  the  priests,  and  yield  to  my  reason  and 
heart  ? ' 

"  '  I  entreat  you.' 

"  '  God !  O,  help  me  ! ' 

"  '  You  have  given  up  ;  tell  me  that  you  have  again 
become  my  son.' 

"  '  I  will  pray  to  God  for  you.' 

"  '  I  do  not  want  that.  Are  you  about  to  cast  off 
this  hideous  gown  ?  to  leave  forever  your  infamous 
seducers  ? ' 

"  '  Alas  !  I  must  save  myself.' 


HO  PAUL   AXD   JULIA. 

"  '  And  I,  in  the  name  of  God,  in  the  name  of  your 
salvation,  I  command  you  to  obey  me.' 

"  '  Alas  !  I  am  bound  to  obey  the  priests  rather  than 
you.' 

"  '  Well,  Paul,  I  have  lain  prostrate  at  your  feet ;  I 
now  quit  you,  carrying  in  my  heart  the  poison  which 
will  give  me  death.  I  bless  you,  poor  victim ;  but  I 
curse  with  all  my  maternal  maledictions  your  seducers, 
—  the  torturers  of  my  son,  —  the  murderers  of  a 
mother,  —  and  this  in  the  name  of  God  !  What !  Stifle 
reason  in  the  mind  of  my  son !  kill  his  intelligence 
and  heart !  and  this  in  the  name  of  God  !  Monstrous 
profanators  of  the  laws  of  nature,  of  Christ,  and  his 
gospel !  O,  the  day  wherein  I  gave  birth  to  my  son 
was  certainly  an  unhappy  day  !  and  yet  I  rejoiced  when 
he  was  born.' 

"  Venerable  chief,  these  were  the  last  words  which  I 
heard  from  the  mouth  of  my  mother.  I  had  fallen  un- 
conscious on  the  pavement.  They  gave  me  restoratives, 
and  when  I  became  again  conscious,  I  heard  my  mother 
weeping  bitterly.  She  fell  —  and  a  moment  after  they 
carried  her  out  dying.  O,  horrible  remembrance  !  " 

And  Paul  buried  himself  in  a  mournful  silence. 


PAUL   AND   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 


SUFFERINGS    OF     PAUL    IN    THE    CONVENT. LETTER 

OF    ATTORNEY. 

AUL  resumed  :  "  I  renewed 
my  efforts  to  stifle  my  feel- 
ings ;  but  it  was  useless. 
The  world  appeared  to  me 
a  charming  abode,  and  the 
religious  life  as  dark  as  a 
dungeon.  All  that  my 
mother  had  said  to  me  of 
wealth,  honors,  pleasures, 
family,  chiefly  of  love  and 
hymen,  enchanted  and  se- 
duced me.  Apostleship, 
on  the  contrary,  seemed  to 
me  a  road  strewed  with 
thistles  and  thorns. 

"The  monks,  moved  by 
my  sufferings,  lavished  on 
me  encouragements  and  prayers.  They  surrounded  me 
with  the  most  affectionate  regards,  and  exhorted  me  to 
console  and  fortify  myself  by  all  the  resources  of  their 
charity.  They  often  addressed  me  thus  :  '  "  He  that 
shall  endure  unto  the  end,  the  same  shall  be  saved." 
Cheer  up ;  after  tempest  God  gives  calmness ;  the  day 
follows  the  night ;  to  winter  spring  succeeds  ;  "  a  wo- 
man, when  she  is  in  travail,  hath  sorrow  because  her 


142  PATTI,   AND   JULIA. 

hour  is  come,  but  as  soon  as  she  is  delivered  of  the 
child,  she  rememhereth  no  more  the  anguish,  for  joy 
that  a  man  is  born  into  the  world;"  all  the  saints 
who  have  been  favored  by  God  with  extraordinary 
favors  were  nailed  to  the  cross.  Christ  himself  had  to 
suffer  before  entering  his  glory.  Cheer  up,  then,  and 
have  confidence.  Persist  in  resisting  and  praying,  and 
you  will  win  the  conqueror's  ciown.  You  will,  per- 
haps, even  in  the  midst  of  the  delight  which  will  over- 
flow your  soul,  regretfully  think  of  your  days  of  trial, 
and  exclaim,  as  St.  Theresa  did,  "  Either  to  die  or  to 
suffer !  "  ' 

"  I  then  redoubled  my  efforts  to  pray  and  resist ;  but 
it  was  in  vain.  I  fell  into  a  deep  sadness.  Father 
Francis,  whom,  by  peculiar  favor,  the  superior  had 
given  me  for  confessor  and  director  of  my  conscience,  — 
I  say  by  peculiar  favor,  for  I  should  have  been  bound 
by  the  rule  to  confess  to  the  spiritual  father,  —  Father 
Francis,  I  say,  tried  all  means  to  master  my  imagina- 
tion, settle  my  mind,  and  free  my  heart  of  its  terres- 
trial feelings.  He  presented  to  me  charming  pictures 
of  my  future  happiness  in  religion ;  but  I  listened  to 
him  with  indifference ;  I  remained  as  cold  as  marble. 
Hoping  to  succeed  better,  he  discoursed  with  enthusi- 
asm on  the  sublime  regions  of  spirituality  to  which 
God  would  raise  my  soul. 

"  '  Mysticism,'  he  said,  '  is  the  food  of  the  Christian 
heroes,  of  the  elect  of  God,  of  the  predestinated.  It  is 
the  mysterious  ladder  of  Jacob,  the  feet  whereof  rested 
on  earth,  and  the  top  reached  the  heavens.  Medita- 
tion, of  which  I  once  talked  with  you,  is  its  first  step. 
From  meditation,  you  will  pass  to  the  spiritual  pur- 


TAT7I,   AND   JULIA.  143 

gallon,  namely,  to  the  removal  of  your  imperfections  ; 
from  the  spiritual  purgation  to  the  aridity  of  the 
senses  :  from  the  aridity  of  the  senses,  to  the  substan- 
tial aridity  of  the  soul ;  from  the  substantial  aridity 
of  the  soul,  to  the  merry  contemplation ;  from  the 
merry  contemplation,  to  the  contemplative  rest,  which 
is  the  recollection  of  our  soul  under  the  divine  influ- 
ence ;  from  the  contemplative  rest  to  the  acquired 
contemplation,  which  is  the  knowledge  of  truth  by 
mere  intuition ;  and  from  the  acquired  contemplation 
to  the  pure  contemplation.  Then  God  alorte  will  act 
in  you ;  your  soul  will  be  actionless,  and  enriched 
with  the  gifts  that  he,  with  full  hands,  will  gran* 
to  you.  You  will  pass  from  the  pure  contemplation 
to  the  affirmative  contemplation,  which  consists  in 
the  intuition  of  created  truths,  as  for  instances,  the 
felicity  of  the  elect  in  paradise,  the  tortures  of  the 
reprobates  in  hell ;  uncreated,  as  for  instances,  the 
divine  omnipotence,  justice,  mercy,  etc.  From  the 
affirmative  contemplation  you  will  pass  to  the  negative 
contemplation,  which  is  not  the  intuition  of  one  par- 
ticular truth,  but  the  obscure  intuition  of  truths  ;  from 
the  negative  contemplation,  to  the  supernatural  recol- 
lection, which  is  the  entire  yielding  of  the  soul  to  God 
acting  on  it ;  from  the  supernatural  recollection  to  the 
contemplation  called  rest,  which  consists  in  the  insen- 
sibility of  the  senses  effected  by  the  divine  love  ;  from 
the  contemplation  called  rest,  to  the  contemplation 
called  shining  cloud.  Then  your  soul  will  be  dazzled 
by  the  divine  light,  exactly  as  our  eyes  are  dazzled 
by  the  beams  of  the  sun.  You  will  pass  from  this 
last  degree  of  contemplation  to  the  spiritual  rapture. 


144  PAUL   AND 

When  you  reach,  this  step  of  the  mystical  ladder, 
your  soul  will  be  plunged  in  an  amorous  delirium, 
accompanied  with  chants,  cries,  abundant  tears,  dances, 
etc.  God  will  afterwards  grant  to  your  soul  the  gift 
of  union.  Your  soul  will  at  first  be  actively  united 
to  God,  namely,  obedient  in  all  things  to  the  will  of 
God,  and  afterwards  passively  united.  Then  it  will 
neither  see  nor  feel ;  it  will  have  the  clear  thought  of 
the  presence  and  union  of  God.  Such  a  union  lasts 
never  more  than  half  an  hour. 

"  '  There  are  two  other  sorts  of  union  :  the  union  of 
betrothal,  and  the  consummated,  or,  in  other  words,  the 
union  of  spiritual  marriage.  The  first  is  divided  into 
three  sorts:  1.  Of  ecstasy.  2.  Of  rape.  3.  Of  rav- 
ishment of  the  spirit.  In  the  union  of  ecstasy  you  will 
lose  so  entirely  the  use  of  the  senses,  that  you  will 
neither  see  nor  hear ;  that  even  you  will  not  feel  in- 
cisions made  on  your  body.  In  the  union  of  rape, 
God  will  ravish  your  soul  so  suddenly  and  violently, 
that  your  body  itself  shall  be  lifted  up  and  made  as 
light  as  a  feather.  In  the  union  of  ravishment  of  the 
spirit,  your  soul  will  be  rid  of  the  body,  and  will  fly  in 
the  immensity  of  the  heavens.  In  the  consummated 
union,  or  spiritual  marriage,  there  will  be  effusion  of 
God  into  your  soul,  and  of  your  soul  into  God,  fusion 
of  both  into  one,  according  to  the  whole  tenor  of  the 
word  marriage.  This  is  the  highest  step  of  the  mysti- 
cal ladder,  of  which  that  of  Jacob  was  the  image. 
This  is  its  top,  reaching  heaven. 

"  '  My  son,  what  will  you  then  have  to  love  on  earth  ? 
What  will  you  have  more  to  do  with  the  world  ?  You 
will  be  so  far  distant  from  it,  what  will  you  have  tc 


PATJL   -4.ND   JULIA.  145 

desire  from  it  ?  God  himself  will  fill  all  the  faculties  of 
your  being.  How  pale  and  insignificant  will  the  love 
of  a  woman,  of  your_family,  and  of  your  mother  be  to 
you !  You  will  swim  in  a  boundless  ocean  of  love. 
The  gifts  of  God  will  be  showered  on  you.  He  will 
send  to  you  visions.  They  sometimes  will  be  external, 
viz.,  discernible  with  your  eyes  ;  at  other  times  imagi- 
native, viz.,  attainable  only  by  your  imagination;  and 
at  other  times  intellectual.,  viz,,  within  the  reach  of 
your  intellect.  God  will  delight  to  speak  to  you. 
When  you  will  meditate  on  some  religious  truths,  you. 
will  hear  in  your  soul  a  kind  of  an  unknown  voice ; 
this  is  what  the  mystical  authors  term  successive  lo- 
cution. You  will  likewise  hear  out  of  your  soul  an 
unknown  voice  ;  you  will  hear  it,  either  physically,  or 
in  your  imagination,  or  in  your  intellect ;  this  locution 
is  called  formal,  God  will  send  to  you,  too,  revela- 
tions, namely,  will  recall  to  you  futurity,  the  mysteries 
of  the  faith,  the  state  of  consciences,  the  predestina- 
tion, the  promotion  to  dignities  and  death  of  certain 
men,  and  so  on. 

" '  I,  now,  young  friend,  ask  you  if  a  mortal  can 
expect  a  greater  happiness  here  below  ?  I  ask  you, 
rather,  if,  like  the  royal  Psalmist,  you  will  not  find  that 
your  pilgrimage  on  earth  is  too  long  ?  If,  like  St. 
Paul  who  had  been  carried  up  to  the  third  heaven,  you 
will  not  be  anxious  to  see  your  body  dissolve,  taking 
its  flight  to  paradise,  and  unite  to  Christ  ?  And  do 
not  think  I  have  exaggerated,  for  all  I  have  said  to  you 
is  literally  written  in  the  Theology  of  St.  Liguori.' 

"  Isram,  Father  Francis  explained  to  me,  with  en- 
thus'asm,  the  mystical  doctrine  of  which  I  have  given 
13 


146  PAUL  AND  JULIA. 

you  a  sketch  ;  but  I  listened  to  him  with  indifference, 
and,  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts,  remained  cold.  His  the- 
ory appeared  to  me  entirely  absurd,  sacrilegious,  and 
foolish.  Absurd,  because  it  supposes  that  our  soul  is 
a  mere  machine  ;  sacrilegious,  because  it  binds  God  to 
a  human  method ;  and  foolish,  because  a  sonl  disor- 
ganized only,  is  capable  of  such  dreams  and  feelings. 
When  I  said  to  him  what  I  thought  about  it,  he  an- 
swered that  I  was  guilty  of  a  great  sin  —  sin  against  the 
Holy  Ghost,  because  I  blasphemed  against  his  grace  ; 
sin  against  God  and  his  saints,  for  God,  he  said,  had 
led  them  through  that  sublime  way;  sin  of  pride 
and  disobedience,  because  I  used  my  reason  chiefly  on 
a  point  so  supernatural,  and  thereby  disobeyed  God 
and  his  church. 

"  I  then  abstained  from  thinking  and  judging  for 
myself,  and  prayed  God  to  inspire  me  with  submission 
and  faith  in  the  teaching  of  the  monks. 

"  Father  Francis,  however,  hoped  yet  that  through  hia 
persevering  efforts  he  could  tame  my  reason,  my  con- 
science, and  my  heart.  I  had  not  been,  since  my  en- 
trance into  religion,  bound  to  all  the  practices  imposed 
by  the  rule  upon  the  novices.  My  table  was  sumptu- 
ously served ;  I  was  permitted  to  walk  in  the  garden, 
to  read,  to  write,  to  visit  the  monks  in  their  rooms, 
chiefly  to  converse  often  with  Father  Francis,  whom  I 
considered  as  my  friend  and  father.  The  reverend  fa- 
ther superior  informed  that,  far  from  forgetting  society, 
my  family,  my  mother,  and  the  woman  whom  I  loved,  I 
incessantly  thought  of  them,  and  felt  their  love  in- 
creasing in  my  soul ;  that,  far  from  being  attracted  to 
the  religious  life  and  improving  in  the  mystical  science, 


PAUL  AND   JULIA.  147 

I  was  quite  disgusted,  and  anxious  to  leave  the  convent ; 
he  bade  Father  Francis  say  to  me,  that  if  I  should 
return  into  the  world  I  should  commit  a  great  sin,  and 
that  my  eternal  salvation  would  certainly  be  at  stake  ; 
that  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  observe,  as  the  other  novices, 
all  the  points  of  the  rule,  and  to  believe  and  obey 
blindly,  as  they  did. 

"  Father  Francis  began  then  to  explain  to  me  my 
obligations.  The  innumerable  practices  of  devotion  to 
which  I  had  to  be  bound  seemed  to  me  mostly  absurd ; 
but  when  he  told  me  that  I  had  to  deem  myself  more 
despisable  than  a  hog,  or  a  heap  of  manure ;  to  reveal 
to  my  superiors  all  my  thoughts  and  feelings  ;  to  hold 
friendship  as  sinful,  to  denounce  my  fellow-novices,  to 
die  to  the  love  of  my  family,  of  my  brothers,  sisters, 
and  mother  ;  not  only  not  to  think  of  them,  but  even 
to  hate  them ;  that  I  had  to  obey  so  passively  and  so 
blindly  that  I  should  resemble  a  stick  motionless  in  it- 
self, and  borrowing  its  motion  from  the  hand  which 
carries  it ;  that  I  should  think  and  feel  as  my  superiors 
did,  —  I  shrieked  with  despair,  and  my  reason  rebelled. 
Such  doctrine  seemed  to  me  opposed  to  the  gospel. 

"  I  still,  in  spite  of  my  reluctance,  tried  to  observe 
carefully  all  the  practices  which  were  imposed  upon  my 
conscience ;  but  my  body  alone  bent  itself,  my  soul 
could  not.  So,  I,  it  is  true,  knelt  before  my  superiors, 
lay  down  on  the  threshold  of  the  refectory,  ate  below 
the  table,  planted  cabbages,  the  roots  up,  and  watered 
them;  turned  upon  one  foot  till  I  fell  headlong  on 
the  ground ;  and  so  on ;  but  all  my  soul  rebelled, 
and  cried  to  me,  that  such  brutalizing  practices  were 
unworthy  of  a  reasonable  being,  of  man  created  in  the 


148  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

likeness  of  God.  The  more  Father  Francis  and  th& 
superior  of  the  convent  inflicted  chastisement  upon  me, 
and  prayed  for  my  conversion,  —  the  more  I  asked  from 
God  the  forgiveness  of  my  sins  of  pride,  disobedience, 
and  incredulity,  the  contrition  of  these  crimes,  and  the 
change  of  ideas  and  feelings  which  I  needed, — so  much 
the  more  my  reluctancy  increased.  I  felt  wretched  in 
the  extreme.  These  incessant  efforts,  and  my  inter- 
nal struggle  to  stifle  in  my  heart  the  love  of  my  family, 
brother,  sisters,  and  mother,  chiefly  of  the  woman 
whom  I  once  intended  to  marry,  exhausted,  at  length, 
the  strength  of  my  body  and  soul.  I  then,  in  my  de- 
spair, resolved  to  leave  secretly  the  convent.  I  was 
about  to  execute  my  resolution,  when  Father  Francis, 
who  suspected  it,  threatened  me  with  the  divine  ven- 
geance, and  with  hell  opening  its  waves  of  flames  to 
bury  me  in  their  devouring  depth. 

"  Two  years,  long  and  weary,  had  passed,  and  I  had 
been  during  that  time  the  prey  of  those  relentless  anx- 
ieties and  sufferings,  whilst  I  had  not  received  a  sin- 
gle letter  from  my  mother  ;  all  I  knew  of  her  from  the 
monks  was  that  she  still  was  living  ;  they  forbade  me 
to  write  to  her,  and  even  to  think  of  her.  As  soon  as 
the  time  required  for  my  novitiate  was  over,  Father 
Francis  and  the  reverend  father  superior  compelled  me, 
in  spite  of  my  repugnance,  to  take  the  three  vows  of 
religion,  namely,  those  of  chastity,  poverty,  and  obedi- 
ence. 

"  I  was  then  tied  forever  to  the  convent  and  religious 
life ;  but  my  internal  struggles,  instead  of  diminishing, 
increased  so  much  that  I  felt  overwhelmed,  and  death 
became  the  most  earnest  longing  of  my  soul.  Having 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  149 

read  in  the  Theology  of  St.  Liguori,  that  it  was  lau- 
dable to  shorten  one's  life  ten  years,  I  ate,  drank,  and 
slept  so  little,  in  order  to  die,  that  I  looked  as  a  walk- 
ing spectre ;  as,  on  the  other  hand,  I  yielded  fully  to 
my  sorrow,  ray  melancholy  changed  into  madness.  Fa- 
ther Francis  and  the  reverend  father  superior,  noticing 
every  day  the  failing  of  my  health  and  the  disorgani- 
zation of  my  brain,  were  alarmed,  and  resolved  to  send 
me  out  of  the  convent.  One  morning  I  knelt  before  a 
crucifix,  entreating  God  to  have  pity  on  me,  and  to 
send  me  death.  Father  Francis  came  into  my  cell,  and 
informed  me  that  I  should  accompany  him  to  the 
superior's  closet,  wherein  he  waited  for  me. 

"  We  went,  and  met  with  another  monk,  who  ht  Id 
a  big  pack  of  rolls,  and  was  engaged  in  a  serious  con- 
versation with  the  superior.  A  moment  after  Father 
Francis  presented  me  to  them.  I  knelt  before  the 
superior,  and  kissed  his  hand,  according  to  the  rule  of 
the  convent.  He  bade  me  to  rise,  and  said  to  me,  with 
a  paternal  voice,  — 

"  '  My  son,  since  you  listened  to  the  calling  of  the 
Lord,  and  entered  into  religion,  you  have  borne  hard 
trials.  However,  cheer  up ;  those  very  trials  arc  the 
evident  proof  that  your  religious  vocation  is  from  God. 
We  read  in  the  Lives  of  the  Saints,  that  all  the  favorites 
of  God  among  his  elect  have  been  tried  as  you  havo 
been  and  still  are.  You  suffer  in  recollecting  what 
you  have  left  in  the  world,  your  friends,  your  family, 
your  brothers,  sisters,  and  mother.  You  cannot  forget 
the  woman  who  had  criminally  won  your  love.  You 
struggle  against  your  mind,  whose  pride  does  not  bend 
to  a  blind  belief ;  and  against  your  heart,  the  terrestri- 
13* 


150  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

al  affection  whereof  hinders  you  from  celestial  desires, 
and  from  obeying  passively  your  superiors,  the  teach- 
ing, will,  and  orders  whereof  emanate  from  God.  Not- 
withstanding, I  repeat  it,  cheer  up  ;  you  will  conquer. 
Your  feet  will  shake  off  all  this  dust,  that  has  been 
accumulated  in  your  soul  while  in  the  world.  Having 
noticed  that  your  health  is  diminishing,  Father  Fran- 
cis and  I  have  thought  that  travel  would  be  profitable 
to  you.  Then,  you  are  to  accompany  Father  Igna- 
tius, whom  I  send  to  Russia.  Y®u  will  obey  him  as 
you  would  me.  I  have  informed  him  about  all  the 
particulars  of  your  past  life,  that  he  may  direct  you 
better.' 

"  He  meant  the  father  who  held  rolls  of  paper,  and 
was  conversing  with  the  superior  when  I  entered  the 
closet. 

"  '  Reverend  father  superior,'  I  answered,  '  send  me 
wherever  you  will.  To  suffer  and  die  here  or  else- 
where is  to  me  indifferent.' 

"  '  My  son,  why  yield  to  such  feelings  ?  They  are 
sinful.' 

"  '  Since  I  live  only  to  sin  and  to  be  unhappy,  can  I 
think  and  feel  differently  ?  Even  can  I  hope  to  work 
out  my  eternal  salvation  ?  Certainly  not.' 

"  '  My  son,  pray  to  God  ardently  ;  I,  too,  and  all  the 
fathers  of  the  convent  will  pray  to  him  for  you.  You 
may  be  sure  that  we  will  obtain  from  his  mercy  and 
bounty  that  you  be  a  happy  and  a  holy  monk ;  that 
ypu  work  out  your  eternal  salvation.' 

"  I  did  not  reply,  but  I  shed  abundant  tears.  The 
superior,  having  uttered  to  me  a  few  words  of  consola- 
tion, told  me  that  he  had  in  his  possession  many  letters 


TATJL    A.XD    JULIA.  151 

which  my  mother  had  sent  to  me,  but  that  he  had  kept 
them,  and  had  not  given  me  intelligence  of  their  con- 
tents, lest  he  should  kindle  more  ardently  in  my 
heart  the  love  of  my  family  and  mother ;  that  she  had 
come  several  times  to  Naples,  ard  solicited  to  see  me 
in  the  convent,  but  without  success ;  that  she,  in  her 
blind  fury,  had  intrigued  with  the  ministers  of  the 
king  to  obtain  by  their  intervention  that  the  doors  of 
the  convent  be  opened  to  her ;  but  that,  thanks  to 
God,  all  her  endeavors  had  been  vain. 

"  As  he  spoke,  my  features  changed ;  a  cold  per- 
spiration covered  my  limbs ;  I  fell  strengthless  upon. 
a  chair. 

"  '  Your  feelings  are  terrestrial  and  sinful,'  he  said; 
'  do  not  yield  to  them ;  cheer  up  ;  God  will  help  you.' 

"  Fathers  Francis  and  Ignatius,  having  pity  on  me, 
spoke  to  me  consoling  words. 

"  While  the  superior  was  writing  a  bill,  his  mind 
seemed  quite  absorbed  in  it.  When  he  had  written 
it,  he  came  to  me,  and,  with  a  serene  face  and  a  pater- 
nal tone,  said,  — 

"  '  My  son,  the  voyage  which  you  are  about  to  un- 
dertake with  Father  Ignatius  will  be  profitable  to  your 
health,  and  pleasing  to  you ;  will  calm  the  perplexities 
of  your  mind,  and  the  tempest  which  disturbs  your 
heart.  It  will  settle  your  soul  in  your  divine  calling 
to  the  religious  life.  At  your  return  you  will  study 
theology,  and  will  be  ordained  a  priest.  Keep  well  in 
your  mind  that  it  is  only  in  religion  you  can  live  happy, 
and  work  out  the  salvation  of  your  soul.  The  circum- 
stances, or  rather  miracles,  of  your  calling  demonstrate 
that  it  is  the  will  of  God.  Therefore  let  the  world  be 


152  PAUL    AND    JULIA, 

dead  to  yon.  My  son,  I  have  just  now  written  a  bill 
winch  needs  your  signature.  Come  and  sign/ 

"  I  went  to  his  desk. 

"  '  But,  reverend  father  superior/  I  asked,  '  what  is 
this  hill  ? T 

"  '  It  is  useless  for  you  to  know  what  it  is.     Sign/ 

"  I  read  a  few  lines,  and  shrieked ;  the  pen  dropped 
from,  my  hand,  and  I  remained  thoughtful. 

"  '  "What  T  my  son,'  he  said ;  '  what  is  the  cause  of 
your  sadness  ? ' 

"  '  Should  I  sign  such  a  bill  ?  ' 

"  '  My  son,  I  am  astonished  at  your  question.  It  is 
merely  a  letter  of  attorney,  giving  me,  before  the  laws 
of  your  country,  the  right  to  administer  your  temporal 
interests ;  to  claim  from  your  family  your  portion  of 
paternal  inheritance ;  and,  if  your  mother,  brothers, 
sisters,  etc.,  die,  to  claim  your  rights.  I»  not  the  con- 
vent your  home  ?  Am  I  not  your  father  ?  Are  not  the 
fathers  of  the  convent  your  brothers  and  sisters  r  your 
family  ? r 

"  '  But  can  I,  in  conscience,  deprive  my  family,  es- 
pecially my  mother,  of  the  property  which  we  hold 
from  our  forefathers  ?  ' 

"  '  Certainly  you  are  allowed  it.  Moreover,  it  is  foi 
you  an  obligation  of  conscience.  And  do  not  call  them 
any  longer  your  family.  Are  carnal  kindred  your  true 
kindred  before  the  eyes  of  God  ?  Remember  that  Mel- 
chisedek  had  neither  father  nor  mother ;  that  these 
memorable  words  are  written  in  the  gospel :  "  While- 
Jesus  CKrist  yet  talked  to  the  people,,  behold,  his  mother 
and  his  brethren  stood  without,  desiring  to  speak  with, 
him.  Then  one  said  unto  him,  Behold,  thy  mother  and 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  153 

thy  brethren  stand  without,  desiring  to  speak  with  thee. 
But  he  answered  and  said  unto  him  that  told  him,  Who 
is  my  mother  ?  and  who  are  my  brethren  ?  And  he 
stretched  forth  his  hand  towards  his  disciples,  and  said, 
Behold  my  mother  and  my  brethren  !  For  whosoever 
shall  do  the  will  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  the 
same  is  my  brother,  and  sister,  and  mother."  Then 
you  must  forget  and  deny  your  carnal  kindred  as  being 
your  family,  and  consider  the  fathers  of  the  convent  as 
your  sole,  true  brothers,  sisters,  and  mother,  because 
they  do  the  will  of  God  the  Father  which  is  in  heaven.' 

"  '  Reverend  father  superior,  I  do  not  doubt  you  are 
right,  for  you  speak  in  the  name  of  God,  and  you  are 
his  lieutenant  on  earth.  Notwithstanding,  in  spite  of 
my  will,  all  the  power  of  my  mind,  and  all  the  feelings 
of  my  heart,  rebel  at  your  reasoning.  May  I  not  love 
my  family,  particularly  my  mother  ?  I  feel  that  while 
I  have  a  soul  I  shall  think  and  feel  as  I  do  now.' 

"  '  My  son,  you  are  quite  mistaken.  God  will  change 
your  mind  and  your  heart.  You  will  cast  away  the 
terrestrial  man,  and  clothe  yourself  with  the  spiritual. 
Sign  this  bill.' 

"  '  Reverend  father  superior,  if  you  could  know  what 
my  heart  suffers,  and  the  reluctance  which  I  feel  in  my 
conscience,  you  would  not  oblige  me  to  sign  this  letter 
of  attorney.  Of  course  I  am  not  stopped  by  the  con- 
sideration of  my  own  temporal  interests  ;  for,  as  to 
myself,  I  do  not  care  for  money,  —  and,  did  I  care  for 
it,  it  would  not  be  a  matter  of  difference,  —  my  grave 
is  already  open  ;  I  feel  that  my  body  is  already  falling 
in  dissolution.  But  alas  !  I  foresee  that  the  ghost  of 
my  father  will  follow  me  every  where,  charging  me  with, 


154  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

ingratitude  and  injustice.  1  foresee  that  my  brothers 
and  sisters  will  accurse  me,  and  that  my  mother  will 
die  with  sorrow.  And  is  it  not  too  much  to  have 
caused  the  death  of  my  father  by  my  sins,  —  at  least, 
Father  Francis  says  so,  —  without  causing  in  addition 
the  death  of  my  mother  ?  ' 

"  '  My  son,  as  to  your  heart,  you  must  stifle  its  ter- 
restrial feelings ;  as  to  your  conscience,  it  is  wrong. 
Not  only  to  sign  this  letter  of  attorney  will  not  be  a 
sinful  deed"  from  you,  but  to  sign  it  is  for  you  a  strict 
obligation.  Moreover,  I  prescribe  it  to  you  in  the 
name  of  the  holy  obedience  which  you  have  vowed 
to  me,  and  in  the  name  of  God,  as  his  lieutenant  on 
earth.' 

"  Isram,  when  the  superior  spoke  these  words,  I  felt 
as  if  it  had  been  a  sword  piercing  my  heart.  I  took 
again  the  pen,  and  with  a  trembling  hand  wrote  my 
name. 

"  '  My  son,'  he  said,  '  God  will  reward  your  obedi- 
ence. Kneel,  that  I  bless  you ;  for  you  shall  embark 
to-day.' 

"  Father  Ignatius  and  I  knelt,  and  he  blessed  us. 

"  '  Alas  !  my  poor  mother  ! '  I  whispered  in  my  sor- 
row. 

"  '  My  son,'  he  said,  '  pray  God  that  you  die  to  her 
love ;  that  you  die  to  her  love  so  entirely  that  you 
might  kill  her  at  my  order  —  which  fate  she  deserves, 
because,  opposing  the  vows  of  God  upon  you,  she  op- 
poses his  holy  church.  Let  God  guide  you  ! ' 

"  Father  Ignatius  and  I  bowed  to  him,  and  went  out. 


PAUI.    AND    JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 


DEPARTURE    OF    PAUL   FROJI    NAPI  ES. HE    ENCOUN- 
TERS   HIS    MOTHER   IN    CONSTANTINOPLE. SCENE 

BETWEEN    THEM   AND    FATHER    IGNATIUS. 

ENERABLE  chief, 
Father  Ignatius  and 
I  embarked,  a  few 
hours  after,  to  sail 
for  Constantinople. 
We  were  accompa- 
nied to  our  ship  by 
Father  Francis.  He 
gave  me  many  coun- 
sels for  my  spiritual 
benefit;  and  when  the 
anchor  was  weighed, 
he  embraced  me  ten- 
derly, bade  us  farewell,  and  left  us.  This  moment  of 
separation  was  painful  to  me ;  for,  though  I  was  un- 
happy, I  felt  grateful  to  him  for  his  charity  towards 
me,  and  his  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  my  soul. 

"  I  thus  left  this  land  of  Naples,  which  I  had  watered 
with  so  many  tears ;  where  I  perhaps  left  lonely  in  her 
tomb,  without  one  flower,  without  one  tear,  without 
even  one  prayer,  the  woman  who  had  loved  me,  and 
the  love  of  whom  I  bore  in  my  heart.  O,  bitter  recol- 
lections ! " 

On  these  words  Julia  burst  into  tears  and  sighs. 


15(5  FATTL    AXD    JULIA. 

Paul  suspended  a  moment  his  relation,  wiped  the 
tears  which  flowed  from  his  eyes,  then  continued :  — 

"  Leaving  the  theatre  of  my  misfortunes,  the  change 
of  climate  and  a  favorable  voyage  relieved  my  soul 
and  strengthened  my  body.  When  from  a  far  distance 
I  saluted,  perhaps  for  the  last  time,  the  land  of  my 
nativity,  I  had  one  recollection  for  my  friends  of  in- 
fancy, one  sigh  for  my  family,  and  tears  for  my  mother. 
Father  Ignatius  scolded  me  bitterly  on  account  of  my 
terrestrial  and  carnal  feelings.  '  Remember,'  he  said  to 
me,  '  that  you  ought  to  be  dead  to  the  land  of  your 
nativity,  to  your  friends  of  the  world,  to  your  family, 
and  to  your  mother.  Remember  the  examples  of  the 
saints.  Have  you  not  read  that  St.  Francis  Xavier,  on 
going  to  the  Indies,  passed  near  the  castle  of  his  fa- 
ther, and  that  in  spite  of  all  solicitations  and  entrea- 
ties, he  refused  to  visit  his  relations  and  his  mother, 
though  knowing  that,  losing  that  opportunity,  he 
would  see  them  never  more.  He  not  only  refused  to 
visit  them,  but  remained  without  one  thought  for  the 
paternal  castle,  without  one  recollection  for  the  friends 
of  his  infancy,  without  one  sigh  for  his  family,  and 
without  one  tear  for  his  mother.  Imitate  him.' 

"  We  had  just  arrived  at  Constantinople,  when  we 
Baw  a  ship  which  would  cross  and  land  at  Anapa, 
throiigh  which  city  we  had  to  pass  on  our  way  to 
Russia. 

"  We  were  about  stepping  into  the  vessel,  when  a 
woman,  who  hurried  along  the  quay,  met  our  view. 
She  directed  her  steps  towards  us.  O,  surprise  !  She 
was  my  mother.  Alas  !  what  a  change  had  taken  place 
in  her  appearance  !  Her  hair  had  whitened;  her  fore- 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  157 

head  had  wrinkled  ;  her  eyes  were  hollow ;  her  cheeks 
had  become  pale  and  meagre.  She  was  but  the  shadow 
of  what  she  once  was. 

"  *  Cheer  up,'  the  monk  said  to  me;  'you  already 
have  triumphed  over  flesh  and  blood ;  you  can  again 
be  conqueror.  I  will  pray  to  God,  and  watch  over 
you.' 

"  He  drew  back  a  few  steps.  My  mother  stepped 
before  me.  Her  breathing  was  short  and  accelerated. 
All  her  features  told  the  deepest  affliction  and  indig- 
nation ;  yet  a  kind  of  agreeable  sensation  seemed  to 
rest  over  her  violent  feelings,  she  had  not  seen  me  for 
so  long.  I  turned  pale  ;  all  my  limbs  were  trembling  ; 
I  did  not  dare  look  at  her.  In  the  trouble  of  my  mind 
I  forgot  even  to  bow  to  her.  She  rushed  to  my  arms, 
and  embraced  me,  saying,  '  My  dear  Paul,  at  last  I  see 
you  again.  At  last  I  hold  in  my  arms  my  beloved  son. 
But,  alas  !  what  do  I  see  ?  You  are  only  the  shadow 
of  my  son.  What  have  you  become  in  the  hands  of 
those  monsters  ?  Where  are  the  beauty  and  health  of 
my  son  ? ' 

"  Fearing  to  yield  to  my  filial  feelings,  I  shrunk,  but 
without  uttering  a  single  word. 

"  My  mother,  suspecting,  by  my  looks  and  my 
whole  appearance,  the  agitation  of  my  soul,  said  to 
me,  — 

"  '  What,  my  son,  the  sight  of  your  mother  fright- 
ens you  ? ' 

"  I  felt  moved  by  surprise,  sorrow,  joy,  filial  tender- 
ness, and  the  fear  of  offending  God,  so  that  the  words 
expired  on  my  lips ;    I  could  not  answer.     With  an 
ardent  aspiration,  I  entreated  God  to  help  me. 
14 


158  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

"  '  Be  not  afraid,  my  son,'  she  continued ;  '  I  feel 
against  you  neither  hitterness  nor  anger ;  I  merely 
have  pity  on  your  blindness.' 

"  I  was  tempted  to  rush  into  her  arms ;  but  the 
thoughts  of  the  wrath  and  vengeance  of  God  stopped 
me. 

"  '  My  son,'  she  said,  '  you  are  probably  surprised  at 
encountering  me  in  this  city.' 

"  '  Yes,  my  mother,'  I  answered. 

"  '  I  came  before  you  to  Constantinople,  because  I 
knew  that  you  would  have  passed  by  Athens  with- 
out visiting  me ;  your  conscience,  fashioned  by  the 
monk,  would  have  forbidden  it  to  you.' 

"  '  It  is  true,  my  mother.' 

"  '  Well,  my  son,  I  forgive  you  easily ;  for  a  son  is 
so  far  from  feeling  as  his  mother  feels ;  particularly 
a  son  misled  by  seducers,  and  by  anti-Christian  doc- 
trines. 

"  '  Please  tell  me ;  you  are  undoubtedly  aware  and 
recollect,  that  for  several  years  I  have  written  to  you 
many  times  every  month  :  Avhy  have  you  never  honored 
me  with  an  answer  ? ' 

"  Isram,  fearing  by  justifying  myself  to  stir  up  in  my 
mother  harsher  feelings  against  the  monks,  I  did  not 
answer  her  question. 

"  '  Paul,  my  dear  son,  answer.' 

"  '  Pray,  mother,  spare  me  an  answer.' 

"  '  Spare  you  an  answer  ?  If  you  have  been  bad- 
Learted  so  far  as  to  resist  the  tears,  entreaties,  and  sor- 
row of  your  mother,  refusing  her  during  several  years 
one  word  of  consolation,  you  ought  not  to  be  sensitive 
to  the  confession  of  your  harshness.' 


PAUL   A.XD   JULIA.  159 

"  '  I  love  you  too  much  to  have  given  you  this  cause 
of  sorrow.' 

"  '  I  suspected  it.  I  could  not  believe  that  they  had 
so  soon  made  you  capable  of  such  cruelty.  Why, 
then,  have  you  not  answered  me  ?  ' 

"  '  My  mother,  since  you  urge,  I  must  aver  that  the 
monks  did  not  give  me  intelligence,  either  of  the  con- 
tents of  your  letters  or  of  their  reception.  They  only 
said  to  me,  that  you  were  healthy,  and  resigned  to  my 
entrance  into  religion ;  but,  alas !  I  see  with  my  own 
eyes  that  they  were  wrongly  informed.' 

"  '  Say,  rather,  my  dear  Paul,  that  they  were  well 
informed  by  my  letters,  and  that  they  deceived  you. 
Do  you  see  now  that  they  are  liars  and  hypocrites  ? 
Do  you  understand  that  you  have  been  and  still  are 
their  victim  —  these  monsters  ?  A  mother  writes  to 
her  son,  and  they  read  and  keep  her  letters,  without 
informing  him  about  it.  And  you,  my  son,  are  blind 
enough  to  believe  that  they  are  the  lieutenants  of  God 
on  earth  !  As  for  me,  I  believe,  with  all  men  of  good 
sense,  that  they  are  true  demons  with  human  face.' 

"  '  O  my  mother,  you  sin  against  God  in  speaking 
against  his  priests.' 

"  '  Dear  son,  how  blind  you  are  !  In  what  awful 
manner  they  have  ensnared  you!  You  wish  that  I 
consider  as  ministers  of  God  men  whose  principles, 
teaching,  and  behavior  are  opposed  to  the  laws  of 
nature,  to  reason,  and  to  the  gospel  ?  I  /annot.  And 
tell  me,  did  they  not  forbid  you  to  write  to  me  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  of  course ;  but  they  had  a  good  intention. 
It  was  for  my  temporal  happiness,  and  the  salvation  of 
my  soul.' 


160  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

"  '  O,  horror !  Can  a  son  be  happy  not  loving  his 
mother  ?  Can  he  save  his  soul,  not  loving  his  family, 
his  brothers,  sisters,  and  mother,  whom  God  bids  him  to 
love  ?  What  immoral,  unnatural,  and  anti-Christian 
doctrine  !  Dear  Paul,  am  I  not  right  in  saying  so  ? ' 

"  '  My  mother,  should  I  listen  to  the  voice  of  my 
reason,  to  the  cry  of  my  conscience,  and  to  the  feeling 
of  my  heart,  I  should  certainly  believe  and  feel  as  you 
do ;  but  the  monks  are  ministers  of  God  ;  they  have 
been  empowered  to  overrule  my  reason,  my  conscience, 
and  my  heart,  even  all  the  faculties  of  my  being ;  I 
am  bound  to  yield  blindly  and  passively  to  their  lead- 
ing-' 

*' '  My  son,  they  have  deceived  you  ;  they  do  not  hold 
from  God  this  power,  but  from  their  pride,  ignorance, 
fanaticism,  egotism,  and  barbarity.  Far  from  holding 
such  power  from  God,  the  gospel  condemns  expressly 
their  barbarous  and  sacrilegious  profanation  of  reason, 
and  of  the  laws  of  nature.' 

" '  Pray,  my  mother,  do  not  speak  against  the 
monks ;  for  to  deny  that  their  power  originates  from 
God  is  a  blasphemy  against  God  himself.' 

"'My  poor  Paul,  how  heartily  I  compassionate 
you !  Alas  !  this  is  what  these  wicked  priests  have 
taught  you  since  they  have  seduced  you.  Have  you 
completed  your  novitiate  ?  ' 

"  '  Yes,  my  mother.' 

"  '  Have  you  taken  vows  ? ' 

"  '  Alas  ! ' 

"  '  Your  hesitation  makes  me  aware  of  what  you 
'have  done.' 

"  '  Yes,  my  mother,  I  have  taken  the  three  religious 
vows.' 


PATJL    AST)    JULIA.  161 

"  *  What  are  these  vows  ?  Explain  to  me  the  ob- 
ligations devolving  upon  you  by  these  vows.' 

"  '  By  the  vow  of  chastity,  I  am  bound  to  observe 
celibacy  all  my  life ;  by  that  of  poverty,  I  am  for- 
bidden to  possess  any  thing  in  this  world  ;  and  by 
that  of  obedience,  I  am  obliged  to  think,  believe,  feel, 
and  will,  exclusively,  as  my  superiors  think,  believe, 
feel,  and  will.' 

"  '  And  you  are  convinced  that  such  vows  are  c:  n- 
formable  to  the  gospel,  and  pleasing  to  God  ?  And 
you  do  not  feel  all  the  faculties  of  your  soul  stirred  up, 
protesting  against  and  rejecting  such  fanatical,  immoral, 
anti-human,  and  an ti- Christian  principles  ?  And  your 
conscience  does  not  rebel  against  such  absurd  and 
monstrous  bonds  ? ' 

"  '  My  mother,  I  experience  all  this  ;  but  the  monks 
say  to  me,  that  it  is  a  temptation  of  the  devil ;  that  by 
consenting  to  these  thoughts  and  feelings,  were  it 
once  only,  I  should  offend  God,  should  sin  against  the 
Holy  Ghost,  which  sin  would  be  one  of  the  greatest 
among  all,  one  of  those  that  are  declared  in  the  gospel 
to  be  irremissible.' 

"  '  My  son,  believe  the  word  of  your  mother.  Your 
conscience  is  not  tied  by  these  vows.  Besides,  I 
infer  from  your  own  words,  that  you  have  not  taken 
them  voluntarily.' 

"  '  It  is  true  I  felt  a  reluctancy  so  strong,  that  I 
hesitated.  It  was  only  when  the  fathers  imposed  it 
on  me  as  an  obligation  of  conscience,  as  a  condition  of 
eternal  salvation,  that  I  gave  my  consent.' 

4; '  My  son,  would  you  believe  that  a  man  wno,  while 
he  feels  a  poniard  upon  his  heart,  should  promise  money 
14* 


162  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

to  his  murderer,  would  be  obliged,  in  conscience,  to 
redeem  his  word  ? ' 

"  '  Certainly  not ;  because  his  will  bearing  violence, 
he  was  not  free.' 

"  '  Would  you  fear  more  the  death  of  your  body 
than  the  death  of  your  soul  by  sin,  and  the  loss  of 
your  eternal  salvation  ?  ' 

"  '  I  Avould  prefer  to  bear  death  a  hundred  times, 
rather  than  to  sin,  and  to  be  eternally  damned.' 

"  '  Then,  could  the  religious  vows  be  laudable  before 
God,  you  would  be  no  more  bound  to  hold  your  prom- 
ises than  that  man  attacked  by  a  murderer  would  be 
obliged  to  redeem  his  word ;  for  your  will  has  borne 
violence,  and  you  were  not  free  in  taking  vows.' 

"  '  Alas  !  my  mother,  it  is  the  cry  of  my  reason,  but 
the  priests  have  the  right  to  overrule  my  reason.' 

"  '  Great  God,  what  blindness  !  What  a  misfor- 
tune for  you,  my  dear  Paul — for  your  family,  chiefly 
for  your  mother.  How  ignorant  and  credulous  were 
both  your  father  and  I,  when  we  sent  you  to  schools 
kept  by  priests !  We  were  far  from  suspecting  how 
deleterious  was  their  teaching,  which  you  have  un- 
fortunately too  well  received  ;  which,  with  your  years, 
have  grown  up  in  your  soul  in  the  same  manner  as  the 
letters  engraved  on  the  bark  of  a  young  tree  enlarge, 
when  it  grows  up.' 

"  Isram,  when  my  mother  uttered  these  words,  she 
felt  deeply  moved,  and  abundant  tears  flowed  from  her 
eyes.  I  internally  struggled  against  myself,  lest  I 
should  offend  God  in  yielding  to  my  own  emotion.  A 
moment  after,  she  said  to  me,  as  she  was  glancing  at 
Father  Ignatius,  — 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  163 

"  '  Where  do  you  go  with  this  monk,  who  looks  at 
you  so  eagerly  ?  ' 

"  '  We  go  to  Russia.' 

"  '  Why  have  you  not  informed  me  of  your  voyage  ? ' 

"  '  Because  I  was  forbidden  it  by  my  superiors  ;  and 
to  disobey  them  would  have  been  a  violation  of  one  of 
my  vows,  a  great  sin  before  God.  Besides,  I  had  very 
little  time  to  write  to  you  before  I  embarked. 

"  '  I  have  been  bidden,  in  the  name  of  the  holy  obedi- 
ence which  I  have  vowed  to  my  superiors,  to  accom- 
pany the  Father  Ignatius  to  Russia.  O  my  mother, 
let  me  go  with  him.' 

"  '  I  will  not.     A  son  ought  to  obey  his  mother.' 

"  '  How  happy  I  should  be,  if  I  was  permitted  to  obey 
your  maternal  orders  !  But  I  ought  rather  to  obey  the 
priests.' 

" '  God  has  not  bound  you  to  obey  fanatical  and 
hypocritical  priests.  He  commands  you  to  honor  your 
father  and  mother ;  therefore,  in  the  name  of  God,  in 
the  name  of  the  authority  which  he  has  given  me  over 
you,  I  bid  you  to  follow  me.' 

"  Seeing  the  peril  to  which  I  was  exposed,  Father 
Ignatius  had  approached,  and  was  listening  to  us. 
On  the  last  words  of  my  mother,  he  came  to  me,  and 
said,  — 

"  '  Brother  Paul,  remember  that  the  Holy  Ghost  has 
said,  "The  parents  of  man  are  his  enemies."  ' 

"  '  What !  my  dear  Paul,'  replied  my  mother,  '  I 
your  enemy !  Have  I  not  nursed  you  with  my  own 
breast  ?  Have  I  not  spent  days  and  nights  around  your 
cradle  ?  Have  I  not,  to  bring  you  up,  lavished  the 
years  of  my  youth,  my  caresses,  my  boundless  love  ? 


164  PAUL    AND   JULIA* 

Have  I  not  consented  to  send  you  to  Naples,  and  live 
far  from  you,  separating,  the  bitterness  of  which  mater- 
"nal  hearts  alone  can  appreciate,  hoping  that  the  time 
which  you  would  spend  in  Italy  would  be  profitable  to 
you  ?  But  alas !  how  unhappily  I  was  mistaken  !  Have 
I  not  been  from  your  birth  to  this  day  a  martyr  of  my 
love  to  you  ?  After  this,  my  son,  could  you  believe 
that  your  mother  is  your  enemy  ? ' 

"  '  What  an  impiety  ! '  exclaimed  Father  Ignatius. 
'  A  woman  deny  the  words  of  God  ?  ' 

"  '  I  do  not  deny  them,'  replied  my  mother,  '  but  I 
reject  your  interpretation.' 

"  '  This  is  another  impiety,'  he  said.  '  As  if  we 
were  not  commissioned  by  God  to  interpret  the  Scrip- 
tures !  As  if  we  were  not  endowed  with  infallibility  ! ' 

"  '  Fie  !  fie  ! '  my  mother  responded.  '  Spare  me  a 
conversation  with  you,  for  you  should  suspect  what  a 
mother  ought  to  feel  against  monks  who  have  seduced, 
blinded,  misled,  and  deceived  her  son.  I  should  fear 
to  yield  to  my  indignation.  Paul,  my  son,  God  or- 
ders you  to  love  your  mother.  Follow  me.' 

"  '  Brother  Paul,'  Father  Ignatius  said  to  me,  '  re- 
member that  God  hath  said,  "  Do  not  yield  to  flesh 
and  blood."  ' 

"  '  What  a  profanation  of  the  law  of  nature,  and  of 
the  gospel ! '  exclaimed  my  mother,  glancing  at  the  monk 
with  indignation.  *  Can  a  man,  except  he  is  as  cruel- 
hearted  as  a  tiger,  trample  so  upon  maternal  love  ? 
Poor  Paul !  under  the  power  of  what  monster  hast 
thou  fallen  ?  O,  leave  the  monks  and  come  with  me ! ' 

"  I  supplicated  God  to  forgive  the  sins  of  my 
mother  j  for  in  being  disrespectful  towards  the  monk, 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  165 

and  in  speaking  against  the  ministers  of  God,  she  blas- 
phemed against  him. 

"  Father  Ignatius  then  replied,  — 

"  *  We  read  in  the  gospel,  "  Another  of  the  disciples 
[of  Jesus]  said  unto  him,  Lord,  suffer  me  first  to  go 
and  bury  my  father.  But  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Follow 
me  ;  and  let  the  dead  bury  their  dead."  Jesus  Christ 
calls  your  son  to  apostleship ;  you,  his  mother,  have 
no  right  to  oppose  his  divine  calling.' 

"  My  mother  turned  to  me,  and  said,  — 

"  '  My  son,  these  were  not  the  thoughts  and  the  feel- 
ings of  Jesus  Christ.  He  said  to  his  disciple,  "  Let  the 
dead  bury  their  dead  ;  "  but  did  he  intend  to  send  him 
to  the  limits  of  the  world  before  the  death  of  his  father  ? 
did  he  forbid  him  to  see  him  again,  and  to  preserve  for 
him  the  pure  and  noble  love  which  the  Creator  put  in 
the  heart  of  a  son  for  his  father  ?  did  he  bind  him  to 
deny  his  family  according  to  man  ?  did  he  impose  upon 
him  to  disobey  his  father  ?  No  ;  Jesus  Christ  knew  too 
well  that  it  would  have  been  to  break  the  ties,  inde- 
structible ties,  sacred  ties,  which  unite  the  son  to  his 
father.  He  lived  thirty  years  with  his  mother  ;  conse- 
crated only  three  years  to  the  dissemination  of  his  gos- 
pel ;  and  more,  he  never  went  far  from  the  country 
wherein  his  mother  lived.  O,  a  mother  alone  can  ap- 
preciate the  waves  of  joy  which  overflowed  the  soul 
from  the  tenderness  of  such  a  son  !  On  her  prayer  he 
did  miracles.  When,  in  the  streets  at  Jerusalem,  the 
people  treated  him  with  ignominy,  and  covered  him 
with  mud,  like  an  earth  worm,  he  willed  that  she 
should  be  present.  When  he  climbed  Golgotha,  he 
willed  that  she  should  follow  him.  When  he  was 


166  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

nailed  to  the  cross,  he  willed  that  she  should  stay  at 
his  feet,  and  gather  his  "blood.  He  gave  her  his  last 
word,  which  is  the  masterpiece,  and  the  most  divine 
expression  of  filial  love.  As  he  was  ahout  to  die,  he 
willed  not  that  she  should  be  without  a  son :  he  said 
to  her,  pointing  out  St.  John,  the  apostle  whom  he 
called  his  beloved  friend,  "Woman,  behold  thy  son  !" 

"  '  And  why  all  this  ?  Because  he  appreciated  the 
love  of  a  mother.  He  did  know  that  the  absence  of 
her  son  digs  up  in  her  heart  a  bottomless  gulf,  which 
nothing  can  fill. 

"  *  My  son,  in  imitation  of  Christ,  love  your  mother, 
and  love  her  as  he  loved  his.  Have  pity  on  my  des- 
olation. You  know  all  that  I  already  have  endured 
for  you  ;  all  the  despair  in  which  I  have  been  thrown 
by  the  death  of  your  father ;  all  the  anxiety  which 
your  brothers  and  sisters  give  to  me.  Since  you  are 
the  eldest  of  the  family,  you  owe  yourself  to  thair 
affection  and  interests.  You  also  owe  yourself  to  my 
white  hairs ;  for,  for  a  long  time  I  have  been  on  the 
declivity  of  life,  and  shall  shortly  go  down  to  the 
grave.  Leave  then  the  monk,  the  monachal  life,  which 
is  opposed  to  the  love  of  nature,  and  to  the  gospel,"  and 
follow  me.' 

"  '  My  mother,  your  words  tear  my  heart.  Why  am 
I  not  permitted  to  yield  to  your  maternal  commands  ? 
Alas !  I  am  forbidden  it  by  the  monks.' 

"  '  They  have  no  authority  over  you,  and  God  says 
to  you,  "  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother,  that  thy 
days  may  be  long  in  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God 
giveth  thee."  I  declare  then  to  you,  in  the  name  of 
all  my  maternal  rights,  that  you  must  leave  the  monks, 
and  follow  me.' 


PATTI,   AND   JULIA.  167 

"  Saying  so,  my  mother  cast  on  Father  Ignatius  such 
fiery  looks  that  he  did  not  reply. 

"  '  My  mother,'  I  said,  '  let  me  at  least  accompany 
this  monk  to  Russia.  At  our  return,  I  will  find  you 
again  in  Constantinople.' 

"  '  My  son,  I  will  not.' 

"  '  My  mother,  I  supplicate  you.  Perhaps  in  that 
time  my  conscience  will  permit  me  to  go  with  you  to 
Athens.' 

"  '  But  how  much  I  shall  fear  never  to  see  you 
again  ! ' 

"  '  My  mother,  be  not  anxious ;  trust  in  my  return.' 

"  *  Heaven  !  how  much  I  shall  suffer  ! ' 

"  And  we  both  wept  bitterly.  I  kissed  her ;  suppli- 
cated her  to  accompany  me  with  her  prayers  and  wish- 
es ;  she  blessed  me. 

"  When  I  had  drawn  myself  out  of  her  arms,  I  heard 
her,  sighing,  exclaim,  '  Will  it  be  a  last  adieu  1 ' 

"  Alas  !  she  was  not  mistaken.  I  was  destined  to 
suffer ;  to  pass  endless  days  among  savage  tribes ;  to 
live  far  from  her ;  far  from  the  woman  whom  I  love, 
without  even  the  hope  of  becoming  an  apostle.  O, 
unfortunate  mother,  with  what  bitterness  I  have  cru- 
elly filled  your  soul !  When  dying  have  you  not 
cursed  me  ?  And  it  is  I  who  have  killed  you.  Great 
God  !  I  must  be  a  monster  among  the  criminals,  that 
my  fate  be  so  horrible  !  " 

Paul  suspended  his  recital ;  there  was  much  agita- 
tion in  his  soul.  Then  he  resumed  :  — 

"  But  why  cause  you,  Isram  and  Julia,  you,  the 
blessed  of  heaven,  to  partake  of  the  sorrows  of  an  un- 
fortunate ?  " 


168  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

"  Dear  Paul,"  said  Isram  and  Julia  to  him,  "  why 
should  we  not  partake  of  the  bitterness  of  your  recol- 
lections? We  wish  to  know  all  the  particulars  of 
your  misfortunes," 

He  thanked  them,  and  continued  :  — 

"  Father  Ignatius  and  I  had  reached  the  wharf,  when 
I  saw  my  mother  standing  by  me.  She  had  followed 
our  steps, 

"  *  My  son,'  she  said,  '  I  will  not  that  you  go  to 
Russia ;  I  foresee  that  I  shall  never  see  you  again. 
Come  with  me,'  And  grasping  my  hand,  she  drew  me 
back, 

"  '  But,  my  mother,'  I  said, 

*' '  Come  with  me,' 

*' '  Alas  1     And  my  conscience  !     I  cannot.' 

"  '  You  may  come  with  me.  You  must  obey  your 
mother.' 

"  At  that  moment  I  felt  in  my  soul  a  dark  tempest. 
I  exclaimed,  in  my  despair,  '  God  send  me  death ! ' 
And  I  was  glancing  alternately  to  my  mother  and  to 
the  monk. 

"  '  Brother  Paul,'  the  monk  said  to  me,  '  your  moth- 
er is  not  a  Christian,  but  impious.  Her  feelings  are 
terrestrial  and  carnal.  She  is  to  you  a  deadly  viper. 
Leave  her,  and  follow  me.' 

"  '  Monster  ! '  exclaimed  my  mother.  '  Paul,  I  or- 
der you,  in  the  name  of  God,  to  obey,  and  to  come  with 
me.' 

"  '  Brother  Paul,'  the  monk  replied,  '  remember  that 
Peter  and  the  other  apostles  answered  and  said,  (to  the 
enemies  of  the  gospel,  and  of  Jesus  Christ,)  "  We  ought 
io  obey  God  rather  than  men."  God  speaks  unto  you 


JPJLTTL   AND  JULIA.  169 

by  my  mouth ;   then  leave  your  carnal  mother,  and 
come  with  me.' 

"'The  monster!  O  my  son!  do  you  not  under- 
stand that  he  profanes  the  gospel  ?  that  he  blasphemes 
against  God,  who  has  put  in  your  heart  filial  love, 
and  binds  you  to  love  and  obey  your  mother  ?  Could 
you  leave  me  to  follow  him  ?  Could  you  see  me  fall- 
ing and  dying  on  the  pavement  ?  Could  you  trample 
on  my  body  ?  ' 

"  My  strength  was  so  much  exhausted  that  I  almost 
fainted. 

"  '  Brother  Paul,'  the  monk  said,  '  in  the  name  of 
the  holy  obedience  which  you  have  vowed,  I  order  you 
to  leave  your  mother,  and  to  come  with  me,' 

"  As  I  hesitated,  he  drew  me  to  him, 

"  My  mother  grasped  my  arm,  and,  all  trembling, 
kneeled  supplicatingly  to  me,  as  the  Father  Ignatius 
drew  me  again  to  him,  saying,  '  Let  us  go  where 
God  calls  us.' 

"  We  had  walked  a  few  steps,  and  embarked,  when 
I  saw  my  mother  lying  motionless  on  the  pavement. 
A  multitude  of  people  gathered  around  her,  and  carried 
her  I  know  not  Avhere.  All  were  looking  at  us,  vocif- 
erating maledictions  against  us. 

"  '  Let  me  go,'  I  asked  Father  Ignatius  ;  '  I  want 
to  see  my  mother,  and  it  is  my  duty.' 

"  But  he  refused,  saying,  '  It  is  written  in  the  book 
of  Proverbs,  "  There  is  a  way  that  seemeth  right  unto 
a  man,  but  the  end  thereof  are  the  ways  of  death." 
The  sight  of  your  mother  would  be  dangerous  to  your 
soul ;  then  you  ought  to  avoid  her  presence,  and  stay 
here  in  safety.' 

15 


170  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

"  *  She  needs  my  care.' 

"  '  Others  than  you  can  assist  her.' 

"  '  She  perhaps  is  dying.' 

"  '  Though  she  should  die,  it  would  not  be  astonish- 
ing. Has  not  God  said  he  is  jealous  ?  Nevertheless 
she  opposed  his  vows  upon  you.  That  God  punishes 
her  with  death  and  an  endless  reprobation,  is  all  that 
her  impiety  and  carnal  feelings  ought  to  let  us  expect 
for  her.  As  to  you,  who  have  trampled  under  foot  the 
carnal  feelings  of  filial  love,  you  will  enjoy  the  bless- 
ings of  God  here  below,  and  hereafter  be  eternally 
happy.'  " 

Having  pronounced  these  words,  Paul  ceased  to 
speak ;  his  forehead  darkened,  his  looks  became  fiery, 
and  stood  fixed  on  the  ground.  The  change  of  his 
features  told  that  painful  recollections  and  bitter 
feelings  agitated  his  soul.  He  was  for  a  moment 
buried  in  deep  and  mournful  silence,  when  suddenly 
folding  his  arms  on  his  breast,  he  said  with  a  trembling 
voice  and  the  accent  of  despair,  "  What !  I  am  blessed 
by  God  and  accursed  by  my  mother ;  to  me  what  a 
dreadful  enigma ; "  and  he  fell  again  into  his  sad  re- 
flections. 

Isram  and  Julia,  seeing  the  agitation  of  his  soul, 
entreated  him,  though  expressing  how  much  they  were 
desirous  to  know  his  adventures,  to  defer  to  another 
time  the  continuation  of  his  account ;  but  his  mind  was 
so  abstracted  that  he  had  not  paid  attention  to  their 
words  :  he  continued. 


PAUL  AND  JTJLIA. 


171 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 


JATHEB  IGNATIUS  AND  PAUL  EMBARK  TO  CBOSS  THE 
BLACK  SEA. TEMPEST. SHIPWRECK. CIRCUM- 
STANCES THAT  BROUGHT  PAUL  ON  THE  MOUN- 
TAINS.   RECOGNIZANCE. 

E  anchor  was  weighed,  and 
I  lost  sight  of  Constantino- 
ple. It  would  be  impossible 
to  describe  to  you  my  grief. 
I  will  only  say  that  I  was 
insensible  to  all  the  words 
of  consolation  of  the  monk. 
I  fell  into  a  state  of  deep 
dejection. 

"  Our  voyage  was  at  first 
prosperous.  A  favorable 
wind  filled  our  sails :  the 
weather  was  serene  ;  the 
azure  sky  cast  its  tints  on  the  deep  sea ;  and  the  sun, 
reflecting  his  beams  upon  the  waters,  silvered  the  flow- 
ing undulations  of  waves. 

"  In  the  evening  the  sun  sank  behind  the  billows  in 
the  midst  of  a  golden  cloud,  which  cast  its  glittering 
rays  towards  us.  The  stars  gradually  appeared  in  the 
vaulted  sky;  their  light  glimmered  in  the  sea;  we 
seemed  to  be  sailing  between  two  firmaments.  These 
were  the  first  days  of  our  voyage. 

"  One  morning  a  belt  of  gold  was  traced  in  the  east. 


172  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

S, 

The  sun  rose  from  the  bosom  of  the  waves  bright 
and  radiant,  then  slowly  ascended  above  the  horizon, 
deluging  with  light  and  heat  the  immense  deep,  and 
promising  a  fair  day.  But  it  had  scarcely  finished 
half  its  course,  when  a  small  cloud  appeared  in  the 
sky  ;  a  distant  roaring  was  heard  ;  the  depths  of  the 
sea  became  agitated ;  the  cloud  increased,  until  it  over- 
shadowed us  as  a  pavilion ;  in  the  centre  were  dull, 
gloomy  spots ;  its  bronzed  edges  extended  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  horizon,  and  seemed  to  rest  upon  our  masts. 
Rapid  lightning  rent  the  sides,  which  shook  with  the 
crash  of  the  thunder ;  a  furious  wind  blew  from  the 
north,  rolling  cloud  upon  cloud,  wave  upon  wave,  and 
dashing  heavily  upon  our  ship,  breaking  our  spars, 
carrying  away  our  unfurled  sails.  The  waves  ran 
mountain  high,  —  the  ship  sinking  into  the  depths 
again  to  remount.  The  billows  lashed  their  foaming 
crests,  and  roaring  dashed  upward  to  the  skies.  Spouts 
of  water  discharged  themselves  upon  our  deck ;  the 
rain  fell  in  torrents  ;  the  lightning  in  its  fall  embla- 
zoned the  air,  and  whizzed  on  till  extinguished  in  the 
waters.  The  night  was  horrible. 

"  Among  the  passengers  who  had  fled  for  shelter  to 
the  stern,  some  prostrated  themselves,  and  offered  up 
fervent  prayers,  invoking  Mahomet ;  others  uttered 
shrieks  of  despair,  called  upon  their  wives  and  children, 
and  pressed  each  other  to  their  hearts.  Some  kept 
a  melancholy  silence,  or,  in  plaintive  voices,  sighed 
their  last  adieus  to  home  and  absent  friends.  All,  in 
accents  of  fury  and  hatred,  poured  curses  upon  us,  be- 
cause, they  said,  we  monks  had  provoked  the  Great 


PAUL   AXD   JTJLIA.  173 

Spirit  in  causing  the  death  of  my  mother.  They  wished 
to  cast  us  into  the  sea. 

"I  retired  into  a  solitary  cabin,  prayed  for  those 
ignorant  persons,  and  prepared  myself  for  death  with 
calmness  and  resignation.  I  was  not  only  resigned, 
but  happy  at  the  thought  of  quitting  a  life  which  had 
been  so  bitter,  and  in  which  I  foresaw  I  should  have  so 
much  still  to  suffer  in  working  out  my  salvation. 

"  There  yet  remained  a  ray  of  hope ;  the  pilot  was 
faithful  at  the  helm  ;  the  captain  gave  his  orders,  and 
the  sailors  executed  skilful  and  difficult  manoeuvres 
with  intrepidity.  In  the  morning  the  tempest  seemed 
to  lull ;  the  wind  blew  less  violently  ;  the  clouds  dis- 
persed, and  the  heavens  appeared.  The  cry  was  given, 
'  Land  !  land  ! ' 

"  A  few  miles  distant  the  Caucasus  unrolled  its 
dark  forests,  its  mountains  and  their  summits  capped 
both  in  ice  and  snow.  But,  alas  !  the  day  appeared 
only  to  show  us  our  condition.  The  ship,  beaten  by 
the  waves,  was  leaking  at  all  points  ;  in  vain  all  the 
merchandise  was  cast  overboard  to  save  her ;  she  con- 
tinued gradually  to  sink.  Suddenly  the  shock  of  a  great 
surge  dislocated  her  frame.  The  sailors,  worn  out  with 
their  exertions,  prostrated  themselves  upon  the  deck, 
recommended  themselves  to  Mahomet,  and  silent  and 
motionless  abandoned  themselves  to  their  fate. 

"Then  the  shrieks  of  the  passengers, -mingled  with 
the  roaring  of  the  sea,  presented  a  sad  and  terrible 
spectacle.  Friend  embraced  friend  ;  sisters  clasped 
brothers  to  their  bosoms  ;  wives  threw  themselves  into 
the  arms  of  their  husbands ;  sons  clung  to  the  necks 
of  their  fathers ;  daughters  pressed  their  hearts  to 
15 


174  PAUL   AND   JTJ1IA. 

those  of  th  jir  mothers ;  all  bidding  an  eternal  adieu. 
I  commended  my  soul  to  the  blessed  Virgin,  recited 
the  prayers  for  the  dying,  and  loving  nothing  on  earth 
that  I  was  permitted  to  love,  waited  without  regret  the 
end  of  my  trouble.  It  arrived. 

"  The  dismal  ship  floated  with  difficulty  on  her  side. 
A  great  number  of  passengers  rushed  into  the  boats, 
and  were  swallowed  up.  Many,  wishing  to  die  together, 
entwined  their  arms,  threw  themselves  into  the  sea, 
and  disappeared.  Some,  to  save  themselves,  seized 
whatever  came  within  their  grasp,  and  were  drowned. 
Others  lashed  themselves  to  the  rigging  and  cordage, 
hoping  still  longer  to  contend  with  death,  and  perhaps 
save  themselves. 

"  A  wave  carried  away  the  monk,  who  did  not  face 
death  without  fear,  but,  pointing  towards  heaven,  said, 
'  Alas  !  how  hypocritical  and  unhappy  has  been  my 
life,  and  how  dreadful  is  my  death  !  I  cannot  repeat 
confidently  these  words  of  the  royal  prophet :  "  I  was 
glad  when  they  said  unto  me,  Let  us  go  into  the  house 
of  the  Lord."  '  I  then  bound  myself  to  a  plank,  and 
committed  myself  to  the  mercy  of  the  sea.  During 
several  hours  I  was  tossed  upon  the  waves,  not  know- 
ing where  they  would  bear  me.  I  raised  my  heart  to 
God  in  fervent  aspirations.  I  prayed  to  Mary,  the 
morning  star,  who  had  already  been  helpful  to  me. 
My  prayer  was  heard.  Land  was  not  far.  I  heard  the 
surges  lashing  against  the  reef,  and  breaking  against 
its  steep  shore.  I  believed  my  last  moment  had  ar- 
rived ;  but  a  wave  threw  me  into  a  creek,  and  left  me 
on  the  sand  between  two  rocks.  Exhausted  by  my 
exertions,  I  remained  for  a  considerable  time  extended 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  175 

on  the  sand,  without  motion  or  strength.  I  then  arose, 
addressed  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving  to  the  mother  of 
God,  and  walked  along  the  beach  to  assist  those  whom 
the  waves  might  have  spared.  I  saw  neither  bodies 
nor  fragments  of  the  wreck.  Weakened  by  hunger 
and  fatigue,  I  entered  the  forest ;  I  listened  and  looked 
around  me,  but  my  search  was  vain;  no  habitation 
vyas  near  ;  I  heard  not  a  sound  of  the  human  voice.  I 
was  in  the  country  of  the  little  Abazie. 

"  I  stopped  at  a  brook  whose  waves  ran  murmuring 
by,  and  quenched  my  thirst ;  ate  some  wild  roots,  re- 
moved the  thorns  from  a  small  cave,  and  laid  down  to 
pass  the  night.  It  was  near  the  close  of  day.  The 
sea  was  more  calm,  the  foaming  waves  broke  with  less 
fury  against  the  shore  ;  the  tempest  was  no  longer  heard, 
but  in  a  distant,  hollow  sound.  The  clouds,  which  I 
had  seen  accumulated  above  me,  were  flying  in  confu- 
sion and  scattering  in  the  skies.  All  nature  was  silent, 
and  seemed  to  invite  me  to  that  repose  of  which  I  was 
in  great  need ;  but  I  could  not  rest,  for  my  clothes  were 
saturated  with  water,  and  I  was  benumbed  with  cold. 
I  sought  means  to  procure  a  fire,  gathered  some  wood, 
and  by  rubbing  two  dry  sticks  together  ignited  them. 
When  I  had  warmed  myself,  I  laid  down^  and  overcome 
by  fatigue  I  slept  profoundly. 

"  In  the  morning  the  scene  was  horrible.  I  ran  to 
the  beach,  and  saw  scattered  'here  and  there  planks, 
ropes,  broken  masts,  and  a  great  number  of  corpses ; 
among  them,  that  of  the  monk.  I  buried  him  in  the 
sand,  erected  a  small  cross  over  his  grave,  recited  '  De 
Profundis '  for  the  repose  of  his  soul,  and  quitted  the 
place,  praying  him  to  be  my  guide  to  heaven.  Still  his 


176  FATJL    AND    JULIA. 

last  words  had  made  upon  me  a  sad  impression.  I 
•walked  slowly,  with  sad  and  painful  reflections  revolv- 
ing in  my  mind.  All  the  horrors  of  my  situation  were 
pictured  to  me,  and  I  said,  '  I  am  here  alone  on  a  bar- 
barous, coast,  without  acquaintances,  without  friends 
or  relatives,  without  means,,  and  without  a  shelter. 
Shall  I  remain  in  this  solitude  ?  But  where  shall  I  find 
nourishment  ?  How  shall  I  provide  for  my  daily  wants  ? 
Can  I  live  isolated  from  society,  without  exchanging  a 
thought  with  a  fellow-being  ?  Will  not  my  soul  be 
melted  by  the  fire  of  solitude,  as  wax  by  the  heat  of 
the  sun  ?  Shall  I  enter  this  savage  tribe  ?  But  will 
they  receive  me  ?  Shall  I  understand  the  language  ? 
Have  I  authority  and  commission  to  preach  the  gospel 
to  them  ?  Shall  I  return  to  Italy,  and  reenter  Naples  ? 
But  that  will  open  again  the  wounds  which  love  and 
the  world  have  inflicted  on  my  soul.  There  I  shall  have 
to  sustain  the  same  conflicts.  Shall  I  go  to  Russia 
and  enter  a  monastery  of  my  own  faith  ?  But  I  am 
unknown ;  and  if  I  go  shall  I  be  received  ?  Shall  I  re- 
turn to  Athens  to  my  mother  ?  No,  for  I  believe  God 
has  called  me  to  a  religious  life/ 

"  What  vain  reflections  1  What  foolish  thoughts  ! 
Had  I  the  intention  of  returning  to  Greece  or  Italy, 
could  I  go  ?  Do  I  know  the  road  leading  to  Anapa  ? 
Could  I  leap  the  ravines  and  torrents,  climb  the  rocks, 
swim  the  rivers,  sleep  on  the  ground,  defend  myself 
from  the  fury  of  wild  beasts,  find  my  way  through  im- 
penetrable forests  ?  and  where  can  I  obtain  food  ? 
Should  I  be  able  to  reach  Anapa,  I  have  no  means  ; 
would  the  Mahometans  or  Russians  take  me  in  upon 
charity  ?  These  thoughts  drove  me  to  despair.  I 


PAUL    AND   JULIA.  177 

began  to  envy  the  fate  of  the  monk.  I  had  in  perspec- 
tive either  long  suffering  or  a  speedy  death,  which  I 
could  find  in  suicide.  From  the  first  I  recoiled  with 
terror  ;  at  the  second  I  shuddered  with  horror. 

"  Thus  absorbed  I  walked  unconsciously,  when  sud- 
denly raising  my  eyes,  I  saw  near  me  the  place  where 
I  had  been  (at  least  I  thought  so)  saved  from  the  waves 
by  the  blessed  Virgin.  I  knelt,  and  prayed  her  to  ob- 
tain from  her  Son  the  light  and  strength  of  which  I  was 
in  need.  I  felt  my  prayer  was  heard ;  my  soul  was 
filled  with  confidence  and  courage.  I  arose,  no  longer 
doubting  that  if  God  sent  me  such  severe  trials,  it  was 
the  better  to  prepare  me  for  a  religious  life  and  apostle- 
ship. 

*'  I  directed  my  steps  along  the  sea  shore,  and  after 
several  hours'  walk,  I  reached  high  hills  which  rose  to 
the  foot  of  a  mountain.  I  pursued  for  some  time  their 
intricate  paths,  and  at  length  discovered  at  the  entrance 
of  a  wood  some  lonely  huts,  formed  of  the  green 
branches  of  trees  woven  together  ;  they  were  the  hab- 
itations of  several  families  of  the  Little  Abazie.  Their 
language  being  unknown  to  me,  I  made  them  com- 
prehend by  signs  that  I  had  been  shipwrecked,  and 
they  shared  with  me  their  hospitality.  When  they 
returned  to  the  mountains,  I  accompanied  them,  and 
took  charge  of  their  flocks. 

"  For  nearly  a  year  I  lived  in  the  forests  with  men 
of  uncivilized  manners,  dissolute  morals,  plundering 
and  cruel  habits.  All  my  consolation  was  prayer,  the 
hope  of  returning  to  religion,  and  the  thought  that  I 
might  expiate  the  errors  of  my  youth.  God  alone  has 
known  the  privations  to  which  I  was  subjected ;  the 


178  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

humiliations  I  had  to  bear ;  all  the  bitterness  in  which 
I  was  daily  steeped  ;  and  above  all,  what  I  suffered  from 
my  loneliness,  and  the  interior  struggles  which  con- 
stantly arose  in  my  soul.  At  last  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity offered  for  me  to  go  to  Anapa.  Relying  upon 
Providence  for  the  continuation  of  my  voyage,  I  pre- 
pared to  avail  myself  of  it,  when  unexpectedly  the 
Lesguis  fell  upon  the  Abazie,  entered  the  valley,  and 
made  me  prisoner.  Such,  venerable  chief,  were  the 
events  which  threw  me  with  the  Abazes,  placed  me  in 
the  hands  of  the  Lesguis,  and  brought  me  into  your 
country." 

During  the  recital  of  Paul,  the  face  of  Julia  ex- 
pressed various  emotions ;  her  eyes  dilated,  her  coun- 
tenance glowed,  her  bosom  heaved,  her  searching 
glances  seemed  to  penetrate  into  the  depths  of  Paul's 
soul,  and  rekindle  some  ardent  love  which  had  been 
consuming  her  heart.  Isram,  on  the  contrary,  had 
listened  with  calm  attention,  serious  but  affectionate 
interest,  and  restrained  compassion.  Large  tears  had 
more  than  once  moistened  his  eyes. 

When  Paul  ceased  speaking,  Isram  said  to  him, 
"  Young  Greek,  you  have  suffered  much.  Your  life, 
up  to  this  time,  has  been  very  unhappy.  You  have 
been  a  victim  to  the  ardor  and  impetuosity  of  youth. 
You  have  been  the  sport  of  your  imagination,  of  the 
righteousness  of  your  mind,  and  of  the  generosity  of 
your  heart.  The  prejudices  of  your  education  and 
your  reason,  the  teaching  of  the  priests  and  the  gospel, 
your  conscience  and  the  fear  of  hell,  filial  piety  and  a 
false  devotion  towards  God,  a  laudable  love  and  the 
monachal  fanaticism,  have  in  turn  contended  with  your 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  179 

soul.  Listening  to  all  those  voicss,  to  each  you  have 
offered  sacrifice.  Which  will  be  victorious,  to  which 
you  will  offer  yourself  a  holocaust,  I  know  not.  As  to 
your  Catholic  belief,  I  have  nothing  to  'say,  except  I 
wish  that  it  could  be  profitable  to  you  and  to  the  Chris- 
tians whom  you  will  evangelize."  Isram  ceased,  and 
seemed  absorbed  by  painful  reflections.  Paul  re- 
proached himself  for  having  afflicted  the  affectionate 
old  man  in  having  recounted  the  history  of  his  mis- 
fortunes, and  remained  for  some  time  silent.  Besides, 
he  was  exhausted  by  fatigue,  and  deeply  affected  by 
these  painful  recollections. 

Julia  forgot  her  own  sadness,  and  addressed  him 
those  words  of  consolation  which  only  a  woman  can 
say,  to  revive  the  serenity  of  the  soul.  But  raising  his 
eyes  in  a  transport  of  sadness,  regret,  and  despair,  ho 
exclaimed,  "  I  console  myself !  Never,  should  I  live 
as  long  as  the  world,  the  struggles  with  which  my  soul 
contends  will  never  end.  Love,  my  mother,  and  apos- 
tleship  !  Love  !  O,  it  would  be  necessary  to  pluck  out 
my  memory  and  my  heart  to  erase  the  remembrance  of 
her  I  love  ! "  Paul  paused  a  moment,  then  in  a  trans- 
port of  frenzy  he  opened  his  bosom,  and  kissed  convul- 
sively a  golden  heart,  and  in  a  trembling  voice  said, 
"  I  love  her  !  I  shall  ever  love  her !  I  shall  live  and 
die  with  her  image  in  my  memory,  and  her  love  in  my 
heart." 

At  seeing  the  heart  Julia  was  surprised.  She  hur- 
riedly opened  it,  and  recognized  her  own  hair. 

"  I  again  see  my  best  beloved  !  "  she  exclaimed,  and 
feinted. 


180 


FATJL 


JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 


her  joy; 
transports 


JULIA   SEEKING    SOLITUDE. INTEBNAL    STEUGGLE8 

OF    PAUL. 

O  see  Paul,  whom  she  had 
not  expected  to  see  again, 
had  thrown  Julia  into  the 
d  elirium  of  happiness .  All 
her  wishes  were  crowned; 
she  passed  to  a  new  life. 
Yet  she  durst  not  yield  to 
she  was  reserved  in  her 
her  felicity  was  mingled 
with  bitterness.  She  noticed  that 
Paul  was  becoming  thoughtful  and 
melancholy.  He  avoided  her  pres- 
ence, and  did  not  dare  look  at  her ; 
he  seemed  to  seek  solitary  spots,  and 
spoke  not  of  love.  The  struggle  was 
renewed  in  his  soul.  One  day  she 
was  walking  under  the  branches  of 
She  passed  through  the  clusters  which 
surrounded  the  cottage,  entered  a  path  bordered  with  a 
bush  of  aubepine,  and,  distracted,  picked  from  it  some 
flowers.  She  disappeared  a  moment  behind  that  cur- 
tain shining  with  whiteness  ;  she  appeared  again,  and 
winded  with  a  murmuring  water,  bordered  with  willow 
trees,  which  shaded  her  with  their  olivdtre  foliage. 
Her  visage  was  veiled.  She  stepped  slowly;  then 


apple  trees. 


PAUL    AND   JULIA.  181 

stopped,  and,  thoughtful,  pressed  in  her  white  hanas 
young  rosebuds,  resumed  again  her  walk,  caressed 
with  her  flowing  robe  the  flowers  which  carpeted  the 
meadow,  and  with  her  light  foot  hardly  bent  in  the 
fields  the  leaves  of  vervain.  She  was  going  to  dream 
and  weep  in  solitude.  Suddenly  she  saw  Paul,  who, 
seated  on  the  bank  of  a  torrent,  seemed  to  be  buried  in 
a  profound  revery.  She  silently  approached,  and  heard 
him  saying,  "  My  God,  when  will  thy  wrath  be  ap- 
peased ?  I  must  be  a  great  criminal,  that  thy  vengeance 
cleaves  to  me  under  all  the  heavens ;  that  thou  con- 
demnest  me  to  a  miserable  existence ;  that  thou  ex- 
posest  me  to  all  combats,  and  permittest  me  to  fall  in 
my  conflicts ;  that  I  am  a  prey  to  remorse.  To  obey 
thy  priests,  I  have  from  infancy  trampled  upon  my 
reason,  and  stifled  in  my  heart  the  most  generous  and 
noblest  feelings.  I  have  denied  my  family,  my  broth- 
ers and  sisters,  my  mother,  to  whom,  probably,  I  have 
given  death.  I  have  struggled  at  every  hour  of  the  day 
against  the  love  of  a  woman  whom  I  adore.  1  have 
buried  myself  in  a  convent.  I  have  crossed  the  seas, 
been  shipwrecked,  and  lived  among  savage  colonies.  I 
have  been  prisoner  and  slave  ;  and  now,  on  these  moun- 
tains, thou  callest  me  to  sustain  dreadful  conflicts,  to 
meet  the  being  whom  my  heart  loves,  though  I  am  for- 
bidden it  by  thy  priests.  I  have  to  this  day  resisted, 
but  I  feel  that  I  can  no  longer  endure  the  trial.  O 
my  Lord,  since  my  life  is  a  tissue  of  sufferings,  since 
the  prolongation  of  my  days  is  but  the  prolongation  of 
the  chain  of  my  crimes,  I  pray  thee  make  me  die.  For 
me  there  is  no  hope  in  this  world.  I  shall  be  the 
accursed  Cain,  whom  thy  priest  spoke  of  to  me.  I 
16 


182  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

stall  wander  in  all  countries  without  finding  rest ;  and 
when  my  long  wandering  shall  end,  the  doors  of  hell 
will  open,  that  I  may  partake  with  the  reprobates  their 
endless  punishments.  O,  the  day  of  my  nativity  was 
indeed  an  unhappy  day  !  " 

Paul  ceased  to  speak,  concealed  his  visage  in  his 
hands,  and  fell  again  into  a  deep  revery.  Julia  heard 
him  sigh,  but  durst  not  appear  to  him.  Suddenly  he 
raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  said,  — 

"  My  Qod,  deliverest  thou  me  from  despair  ?  Send- 
est  thou  me  the  sweet  thoughts  and  pleasures  which 
pervade  my  soul?  Thou  perhaps  hast  not  accursed 
me.  I  perhaps  am  only  a  victim  of  the  prejudices  with 
which  the  priests  have  imbued  me  from  my  infancy. 
If  thou  hast  given  me  the  flambeau  of  reason,  it  is  in 
order  that  I  walk  by  its  light.  If  thou  hast  given  me 
a  conscience,  it  is  that  I  rule  my  deeds  according  to  the 
knowledge  which  I  have  of  thy  will,  and  not  accord- 
ing to  the  caprices  of  men.  If  thou  hast  given  me  a 
heart,  it  is  that  I  love  my  fellow-beings,  my  family, 
my  brothers,  sisters,  and  mother.  If  love  has  root  so 
deep  in  my  soul,  it  is  thou  who  hast  planted  it  therein. 
O  if  it  was  so,  how  complete  would  be  my  happiness  ! 
Ah,  dear  Julia,  what  happy  days  I  should  live  with  you 
on  these  mountains  !  The  years  and  the  sufferings 
having  cemented  our  love,  it  would  be  eternal.  Having 
given  me  life  and  liberty,  you  would  complete  your 
gift  in  making  me  happy.  Our  souls  would  have  but 
one  thought ;  our  hearts  would  beat  but  with  one  feel- 
ing. Together,  the  same  golden  chain  riveted  in  our 
hearts,  we  would  walk  the  pilgrimage  of  life ;  and  if 
some  cloud  should  darken  jur  voyage,  it  would  dis- 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  183 

appear  under  your  looks.  What  should  I  not  forget  in 
your  arms  !  Yes,  I  adopt  the  mountain  for  my  country. 
I  open  my  heart.  Let  love,  that  I  tried  to  stifle  there- 
in, take  a  more  rapid  flight.  Julia,  my  best  beloved, 
I  worship  thee,  and  forever." 

"And  Julia  loves  you,"  a  sweet  and  trembling 
voice  answered.  It  was  a  voice  known  and  dear  to 
him. 

Paul  rose  with  a  sudden  start,  and  saw  Julia,  who 
stood  by  him,  pale,  her  eyes  bathed  in  tears,  and  mod- 
estly inclined  to  the  earth.  Astonishment,  joy,  love, 
and  embarrassment,  appeared  on  his  face.  He  seized 
in  his  burning  hand  the  cold  hand  of  Julia ;  and  they 
hurried  from  the  spot,  not  daring  to  exchange  one 
glance  or  a  single  word. 

"  Dear  Julia,"  asked  Paul,  after  a  moment,  "  how 
has  it  happened  that  you  have  come  to  this  lonesome 
spot :" 

"  I  wanted  solitude,"  she  answered. 

"But  Isram " 

"  I  had  to  spare  him  the  sight  of  my  sadness." 

"  Please  tell  me  the  cause  of  your  sorrow." 

Julia  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  did  not  answer. 

"  Excuse  me,  Julia,"  said  Paul ;  "  my  question  was 
indiscreet." 

"  Paul,"  she  answered,  "  you  ought  to  suspect  the 
cause  of  my  affliction." 

"  I  understand  your  answer.  What !  you  had  for 
me  no  other  feelings  than  those  of  contempt  ?  You 
were  benevolent  enough  to  accept  a  love  that  I  had 
sworn  to  you ;  you  have  exposed  your  honor  and  safety 
to  give  me  life  and  freedom ;  and  for  aL  gratitude  and 


164  PA.UX   AND   JUI.IA. 

reward  of  these  inappreciable  gifts,  I  struggled  against 
myself  to  rid  my  heart  of  your  love ;  I  intended  to  fly 
these  mountains,  and  forsake  you." 

"  Paul,  I  did  not  despise  you.  Witnessing  the 
trouble  of  your  soul,  I  had  for  you  but  a  feeling  of 
compassion  and  sorrow.  I  comprehended  all  you  had 
to  suffer  struggling  against  religious  prejudices." 

"  You,  then,  have  forgiven  me." 

"  Paul,  I  have  not  to  forgive  yo'u,  for  you  have  not 
injured  me.  You  have,  on  the  contrary,  to  pardon  me 
for  having  been,  against  my  will,  it  is  true,  one  of  the 
causes  of  your  sufferings.  I  have  —  why  not  aver  it  ?  — 
endured  unspeakable  ills ;  but  you  have  just  now 
blotted  out  in  my  soul  even  the  recollection  of  all  I 
have  suffered  on  account  of  you." 

"  My  God,  I  bless  thce.  Thou  hast  led  me  to  these 
mountains,  that  I  may  still  live  happy  days.  Dear 
Julia,  can  you  tell  me  the  circumstances  that  brought 
you  to  Naples,  and  recalled  you  so  soon  and  so  sud- 
denly to  Caucasus  ? " 

"  My  grandfather  had  sent  me  to  that  city  to  receive 
a  European  education.  I  had  lived  three  years  in 
that  place,  when  we  met  in  a  church,  whereto  I  ac- 
companied a  Neapolitan  lady " 

"  Ah  !  for  me  what  delightful  and  bitter  recollec- 
tion ! " 

Julia  sighed  profoundly,  then  added,  "  God  alone 
witnessed  all  that  I  have  suffered.  Sorrow  has  changed 
my  body  and  soul  so  much  that  you  have  not  recog- 
nized me  on  these  mountains." 

"  The  whole  of  your  being  that  attracted  my  soul 
inspired  in  me  suspicions ;  but  how  could  I  have 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  185 

presumed  that  so  distant  a  country  had  been  your 
cradle  ?  Besides,  many  years  have  passed  away  since  we 
saw  each  other ;  and  we  suffered  so  much  in  body  and 
soul  that  we  co  ild  not  know  each  other." 

"  Alas  !  " 

"  O,  what  a  dreadful  combat  it  was  in  my  soul !  To 
my  eyes  you  were  so  adorable,  and  the  fear  of  offend- 
ing God  by  destroying  his  priests  preyed  so  powerfully 
on  my  mind  !  " 

"  Tb.Q  account  of  your  adventures,  or  rather  mis- 
fortunes, has  caused  me  to  comprehend  how  much 
religious  prejudices  have  tortured  your  soul.  But  if 
the  sparkling  flame  is  not  the  most  ardent  fire,  in  mat- 
ter of  heart  the  love  that  can  be  painted  is  not  the 
most  violent." 

"  Dear  Julia,  at  your  last  words  I  feel  that  my 
soul  is  overflowing  with  happiness ;  but  tell  me,  why 
did  you  not,  while  in  Naples,  make  me  aware  of  your 
dwelling  and  departure  ?  " 

"  Because  the  friend  of  my  family,  who  had  the  care 
of  me  in  Naples,  opposed  our  love  ;  because,  my  grand- 
father recalling  me  suddenly  to  Caucasus,  I  had  no 
time  to  give  you  intelligence  of  my  departure.  All  I 
was  able  to  do  was  to  send  you  a  token." 

"  Plow  many  soft,  and  withal  bitter,  thoughts  assail 
my  memory  !  What  feelings  you  awake  in  my  heart ! 
But,  tell  me,  how  has  it  happened  that  you  have  not 
accepted  an  alliance  on  these  mountains  ?  " 

"  Because,  when  a  woman  loves,  it  is  forever." 

"  O  Julia,  can  I  but  worship  you  ?  I  would  con- 
sent to  endure  again  for  you  the  horrible  martyrdom 
16* 


186  PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

which  I  have  already  suffered.  In  refusing  a  husband 
you  have  probably  afflicted  Isram  and  your  mother ; 
have  you  not  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  But  for  me  it  was  a  duty,  and  for  my 
heart  a  want.  I  unveiled  to  them  my  secret  only  when 
my  dying  mother  entreated  me  eagerly  to  accept  an 
alliance.  Both  respected  my  feelings,  and  Isram  never 
more  spoke  to  me  of  marriage." 

"  Dear  Julia,  on  this  mountain,  near  you,  what  else 
can  I  desire  from  heaven  ?  " 

A  half  glance,  a  veiled  smile,  and  a  celestial  ani- 
mation in  her  features,  were  the  only  answers  of  Julia. 
Paul  was  raptured^to  that  inexpressible  delirium  of  love 
that  has  been  felt  by  those  only  whose  lips  have  not 
exhausted  the  inebriating  cup  of  the  possession  of  a 
worshipped  woman.  They  said  no  more,  but  arose  and 
walked  homewards.  Their  lips  were  mute,  but  there 
was  in  their  looks  a  burning  eloquence  —  sweet  and 
indescribable  mysteries  enacted  in  their  souls.  They 
had  soon,  without  bsing  conscious  of  it,  entered  the 
villages,  crossed  the  orchards,  and  a  moment  after 
reached  the  paternal  home. 


PAUL  AND   JULIA. 


187 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 


HAPPINESS    OF    THE     INHABITANTS     OF    THE    VALLEY 
OF    THE    OSSETES. 

HILST  Paul  was  in  the  valley, 
he  witnessed  every  day  the 
veneration  of  the  Ossetes  for 
Isram,  and  the  brotherly  feel- 
ing which  reigned  in  the  tribe. 
Emulation  and  good  manners 
having  honored  labor  there, 
fortune  was  almost  equal. 
Lordship,  aristocracy,  and 
privileged  social  station  being 
excluded,  the  most  perfect 
union  existed  among  families. 
The  people  limiting  their  am- 
bition to  the  cultivation  of 
their  fields,  all  were  in  a  modest  competency.  Sobri- 
ety made  the  people  strong  and  vigorous.  Humane 
and  hospitable  in  peace,  they  were  valiant  and  terrible 
in  war.  A  small  number  only  died  with  diseases. 
They  preserved  even  in  their  old  age  the  verdure  of 
youth,  a  healthy  and  vigorous  mind.  Woman,  who 
was  reinstated  there,  and  considered  as  the  companion 
that  God  has  given  man,  made  it  her  happiness  to  make 
her  companion  happy.  Children  cherished  their  par- 
ents, who  brought  them  up  not  with  pride  and  severity, 
but  with  love.  If  any  contention  sprang  up  among 


188  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

families,  it  was  submitted  to  Isram,  whose  justice  and 
virtue  caused  him  to  be  regarded  as  an  oracle.  He 
divided  heritages,  stipulated  the  contracts,  regulated 
the  interests.  He  was  the  guide  of  the  ignorant,  the 
support  of  the  feeble,  the  defence  of  the  widow,  the 
father  of  the  orphan ;  he  had  consolation  for  all  the 
distressed. 

Sometimes  he  went  into  the  cottages  to  fortify  the  old 
men  against  the  terrors  of  death  ;  to  visit  the  patient, 
and  encourage  them  to  support  their  sufferings  ;  to 
represent  to  the  spouses  the  necessity  of  a  close  union ; 
and  to  teach  the  young  respect,  docility,  and  love  of 
labor ;  to  engage  them  to  practise  virtue,  not  in  rep- 
resenting it  as  severe,  but  in  painting  its  charms  with 
agreeable  colors.  At  other  times  he  went  into  the 
fields,  and  had  pleasure  in  assisting  at  the  merry  sports 
of  the  shepherds,  who,  touched  with  his  affability, 
were  more  disposed  to  listen  to  and  practise  his  lessons. 
He  exhorted  the  young  men  to  accustom  themselves  to 
labor,  and  to  stand  fatigue.  He  approached  the  plough- 
men who  raised  up  their  furrows,  or  who,  spade  in 
hand,  painfully  dug  up  the  earth,  and  always  found 
some  words  which  sustained  their  courage.  To 
keep  their  minds  in  agreeable  thoughts,  he  spoke  to 
them  of  prairies  tufted  and  adorned  with  flowers ;  of 
golden  harvests  ;  of  clusters  of  grapes  which  the  knife 
of  the  vintager  detached  from  their  branches  to  press 
the  empurpled  wine  ;  of  the  trees  of  the  orchards 
burdened  with  fruits,  and  of  granaries  abounding  with 
produce  of  all  kinds.  He  conversed  with  them,  also, 
about  the  joy  they  would  feel  in  the  bosom  of  their 
families,  when,  in  the  time  of  repose,  after  returning 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  189 

from  a  distant  chase,  they  would  find  abundance  around 
the  fireside. 

Paul,  pleased  with  such  a  delightful  spectacle,  ac- 
companied Isram  in  all  his  visits  to  the  trihe.  One 
day,  returning  to  the  fireside,  he  said  to  him  these 
words  :  "  Venerable  chief,  the  inhabitants  of  this  val- 
loy  are  kind  and  affectionate,  sober,  and  friends  of 
labor.  Children  are  submissive  to  their  parents. 
Young  men  respect  old  age,  are  laborious  and  modest. 
All  families  live  in  harmony,  and  seem  to  form  a  single 
family.  Peaceable  in  the  fields,  your  people  are  re- 
doubtable warriors  in  combat.  Without  any  ambition 
for  enlarging  their  country,  they  would  die  to  a  single 
one  in  defence  of  their  firesides.  They  have  not 
mosques,  and  they  love  prayer.  They  are  disciples  of 
the  Koran,  and  they  regard  each  other  as  brothers.  To 
me  it  is  most  astonishing  that,  surrounded  with  barba- 
rous people,  who  are  without  faith,  without  morals, 
and  without  religion  ;  who  are  enemies  of  labor,  quar- 
relsome, destructive,  and  sanguinary ;  it  is,  I  say,  as- 
tonishing that  they  have  been  able  to  sustain  them- 
selves against  the  contagion,  to  retreat  from  the  evil, 
not  yielding  to  the  corruption  of  their  neighbors  ;  and 
even  to  resemble  so  little  the  rest  of  the  tribe  of  the 
Ossetes.  Let  me  ask  you  how  it  is  that  you  are 
among  them,  and  that,  being  not  a  child  of  the  tribe, 
they  have  chosen  you  for  their  chief  and  their  father." 

"  Young  Greek,"  the  old  man  answered,  "  as  now 
the  last  rays  of  the  sun  gild  the  horizon,  let  us  go 
home  and  rejoin  Julia.  To-morrow  I  will  satisfy  your 
desire." 


190 


AND  JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

I8HAM     COMMENCES     TO    RELATE    TO     PAUL    THE    HIS- 

TOKY  OF  HIS  LIFE. PLACE  OF    HIS    NATIVITY.  

HIS  TRAVELS  THKOtTGH  EUKOPE. HIS  INQUIRIES 

ABOUT    CHRISTIANITY. HIS    INVESTIGATIONS    ON 

TRUTH.  HE    RENOUNCES    HIS    RELIGION. 

SRAM  was  faithful  to  the 
promise  which  he  had  made 
to  Paul.  He  conducted 
him  to  a  retired  place,  and 
spoke  to  him  thus  :  — 

"  I  was  born  in  Constan- 
tinople. My  father  was  a 
wealthy  effendi ;  my  moth- 
er died  a  few  months  after 
m\A  I  was  born.  In  the  days 
of  my  childhood  my  father 
confided  to  my  young  mem- 
ory the  first  chapters  of  the 
\  Koran,  explained  them  to 
me,  and  soon  after  taught 
me  the  whole  of  it.  In 
nourishing  my  mind  and 
my  heart  with  the  doctrine  of  Mahomet,  he  impressed 
on  my  mind  a  sovereign  dislike  for  the  gospel,  and  I 
vowed  in  my  heart  a  profound  hatred  against  the  Chris- 
tians. Esteemed  because  he  was  in  honor,  and  feared 
because  of  his  power,  of  his  absolute  will,  and  the  fa- 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  191 

naticism  of  his  zeal,  he  was  the  ruler  of  believers,  who 
hated  him;  the  tyrant  of  subalterns,  who  suffered  in 
silence  ;  and  the  terror  of  his  slaves.  He  was  accursed 
by  all,  and  he  often  remarked  to  me,  '  There  are  two 
classes  of  men,  one  who  command,  the  other  who  obey. 
The  one  oppress,  the  other  bear  oppression.  As  those 
who  obey  are  more  numerous  than  those  who  command 
and  oppress,  it  is  necessary  that  the  latter  be  despotic. 
My  son,  you  are  destined  to  command  and  oppress  ; 
then  do  not  forget  my  teaching,  and  remember  my 
examples.' 

"  Such  a  doctrine  had  no  echo  in  my  mind,  and  still 
less  in  my  heart.  I  admitted  a  social  hierarchy,  but  I 
could  not  believe,  and  above  all  comprehend,  that  an 
intelligent  creature,  made  by  the  hand  of  God,  should 
be  the  fatal  victim  of  the  arbitrary  will  of  his  fellow- 
beings.  I  saw  with  horror  the  tyranny  and  cruelty  of 
my  father  ;  the  bad  treatment  and  tortures  with  which 
he  delighted  his  eyes.  However,  from  fear  of  his 
anger  and  his  vengeance,  I  dissembled  my  thoughts 
and  my  sentiments. 

"  One  day,  I  discovered  in  his  library  a  New  Testa- 
ment ;  I  read  it  with  avidity.  What  was  my  surprise 
and  delight,  when  I  found  in  it  a  sublime  doctrine 
which  ravished  my  mind,  and  a  code  of  morals  which 
filled  my  heart ;  when  I  found  all  the  wants  of  my 
being  and  of  the  human  family  in  these  divine  words, 
4  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart, 
and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind ;  this  is 
the  first  and  great  commandment.  And  the  second  is 
like  unto  it  —  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 


lt)2  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

On  these  two  commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the 
prophets.' 

"  Then  I  changed  from  the  hlasphemy  of  the  person 
oF  Jesus  Christ  to  the  admiration  of  his  life  and  his 
heroic  death  ;  from  the  dislike  of  his  doctrine  to  en- 
thusiasm and  faith  ;  from  hatred  against  the  Christians 
to  the  desire  of  knowing  them,  and  making  myself  one 
of  their  fellow-disciples.  The  Bible  and  the  gospel  be- 
came my  usual  and  favorite  reading. 

"As  I  grew  in  age,  these  ideas  and  desires  grew 
stronger  in  my  soul ;  I  earnestly  wished  to  see  if  the 
grain  of  mustard  seed,  the  word  of  Christ,  had  become 
a  great  tree,  which  is  to  shelter  under  its  foliage,  in 
after  generations,  the  entire  human  race ;  if  already 
it  had  yielded  happy  fruits  to  the  people  whom  it 
sheltered.  I  then  requested  my  father  to  allow  me 
to  undertake  a  long  voyage,  to  which  project  he  will- 
ingly consented,  because  he  was  wealthy,  and  he  hoped 
that  the  instruction  that  I  might  acquire  would  be  a 
recommendation  when  I  should  return  to  my  country. 

"  I  spent  many  years  travelling  over  the  kingdoms, 
empires,  and  republics  of  the  civilized  world ;  visited 
their  cities  and  their  capitals ;  studied  the  manners 
of  their  people,  their  monuments,  arts,  commercial 
relations,  and  their  progress  in  science.  I  searched 
into  their  archives,  and  examined  the  books  of  their 
voluminous  libraries.  I  informed  myself,  above  all, 
with  their  philosophical  opinions,  their  religious  faiths  ; 
with  their  rites  and  ceremonies.  For  that  purpose, 
I  listened  to  the  lessons  of  the  most  erudite  professors  ; 
conversed  with  the  most  distinguished  members  of  the 
scientific  societies  and  universities.  I  went  to  churches, 


PA.UL   A.ND   JULIA..  193 

and  heard  the  most  celebrated  ministers ;  had  frequent 
conferences  with  the  priests  and  preachers  of  eminent 
knowledge,  and  discussed  often  with  divines  and  doc- 
tors. But  my  astonishment  was  extreme  when  I  saw 
that,  among  Christians,  some  believed  not  the  gospel ; 
the  greatest  number  did  not  comprehend  it;  and 
scarcely  any  practised  it.  I  was  distressed,  above  all, 
when  I  heard  Christians  who  believed  not  the  gospel 
dispute,  and  say,  — 

"  '  Truth  exists,' 

*' '  We  may  neither  deny  nor  affirm,'  * 

«' '  There  is  a  God  Creator.'  f 

"  « There  is  no  God  Creator.'  J 

"  '  There  is  only  one  God.  The  supreme  and  infinite 
power  is  indivisible,' 

"  '  There  are  many  Gods,  and  their  number  is  in- 
definite. All  recognize  one  master,  and  each  of  them 
has  a  special  power.'  § 

"  '  God  is  eternal.  He  has  created  the  world  in 
time.' 

"  '  The  world  is  a  great  whole,  which  great  whole  is 
uncreated ;  it  is  eternal.  This  great  whole  is  God,  and 
God  is  this  great  whole.'  \\ 

" '  There  is  a  Providence.  He  is  vigilant,  and 
governor  of  the  universe,' 

"  '  Chance  directs  all.  Destiny  rules  all.  Too  many 
evils  overflow  the  world  for  a  divine  Providence  to 
rule  it.'  ^[ 

"  '  The   breath  which  animates   is  a  spiritual  sub- 


The  Sceptics.  f  The  Theists.  J  The  Atheists. 

The  Polytheists.        ||  The  Pantheists,         II  The  Fatalists. 

17 


194  PATJI,   AND   JULIA. 

stance,  impalpable  to  matter.  It  is  indestructible  and 
immortal  by  its  nature.'  * 

"  '  The  breath  which  animates  is,  it  is  true,  a  mat- 
ter intangible  by  the  senses,  but  only  because  the  par- 
ticles which  compose  it  are  purer  and  more  subtile  than 
the  common  material  beings.  It  is  destructible  and 
mortal,  because  it  is  a  compound  being ;  and  a  com- 
pound being  is  subject  to  decomposition.'! 

"  '  An  animal  has  life  and  sensation.  It  is  then  a 
mere  machine,  which  these  two  springs  move  fatally. 
As  to  man,  he  has,  besides  life  and  sensation,  intelli- 
gence, sentiment,  and  will.  He  thinks,  then,  and  deter- 
mines freely.'  J 

"  '  Man  has  neither  intelligence,  sentiment,  nor  will. 
His  sensations  are  merely  higher  than  those  of  an  an- 
imal ;  but  they  are  of  the  same  nature.'  § 

"  '  From  created  beings  to  God  there  is  a  connection. 
From  man  to  God  there  is,  besides  this  connection,  a 
bond  of  duty,  because  man,  and  man  alone,  has  liberty, 
which  generates  duty.'  || 

"  '  From  created  beings  to  God  there  is  an  affinity 
of  existence  ;  it  is  all.  A  blade  of  grass  is  unworthy 
that  we  preside  over  its  destiny.  From  man  to  God, 
the  same  affinity  exists,  but  not  a  bond  of  duty. 
Could  God,  the  infinitely  great,  the  infinitely  perfect, 
make  a  contract  with  the  infinitely  small,  and  the  in- 
finitely imperfect  ? '  ^| 

"  '  From  man  to  God  there  is  a  bond  of  duty.     The 

*  The  Spiritualists.  f  The  Materialists. 

J  The  partizans  of  free  arbitration. 

§  The  Sensualists,  or  opponents  of  free  arbitration. 

||  The  believers  of  merit  and  demerit.  II  The  Deists. 


PATTI,   AND   JULIA.  195 

expression  of  duty  is  religion.  Religion  is  the  con- 
formity of  our  acts  with  nature.  There  is,  then,  a 
natural  religion.  Since  two  substances  compose  our 
being,  viz.,  the  one  invisible,  the  other  visible,  there 
are  then  two  kinds  of  worship  in  the  natural  religion, 
one  invisible,  the  other  visible,  viz. :  one  internal,  that 
of  our  reason,  which  recognizes  the  sovereign  domain 
of  God,  our  dependence  on  him,  submission  to  the 
duties  whose  knowledge  he  has  given  us ;  the  other 
external,  the  worship  of  the  visible  substance  in  us  — 
that  of  our  bodies.'* 

"  '  The  visible  part  in  us  has  not  liberty,  conse- 
quently is  not  bound  by  duty.  Natural  religion  sup- 
poses, then,  only  an  invisible,  an  internal  worship  — 
that  of  our  reason. 'f 

"  '  Duty  supposes  sanction.  There  is,  then,  a  rec- 
ompense for  its  observance ;  punishment  for  its  viola- 
tion. The  recompense  of  a  faithful  discharge  of  duty, 
and  the  punishment  due  to  transgression,  can  be  but 
insufficient  on  earth.  There  is,  then,  a  future  life, 
where  the  dispensation  is  made.' 

" '  The  satisfaction  which  is  experienced  by  the 
practice  of  virtue,  and  the  joy  which  follows  a  dis- 
charge of  duty,  is  a  sufficient  reward.  The  bitterness 
with  which  vice  fills  the  soul,  And  the  remorse  which 
gnaws  the  transgressor  of  duty,  is  a  sufficient  punish- 
ment. There  is,  then,  no  future  life,  during  which 
may  be  dispensed  the  reward  and  the  punishment  due 
to  the  discharge  and  violation  of  duty.' 

"  '  Fidelity  to  duty,  because  it  honors  God ;  viola- 

*  The  believers  of  a  natural  religion, 
f  The  opponents  of  public  worship. 


PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

tion  of  it,  because  it  offends  him,  clothe  the  character 
of  infinity.  Reward  and  punishment  ought  then  to 
have  an  infinity,  which  the  soul  may  be  susceptible  to 
suffer.  Reward  and  punishment  are  then  endless.' 

"  Young  Greek,  I  would  not  finish  this  nomencla- 
ture, if  I  wished  to  expose  to  you,  even  succinctly,  the 
divers  theological  faiths  and  morals  which  I  remarked 
in  that  class  of  Christians  who  do  not  admit  the  gos- 
pel, and  who,  however,  by  I  know  not  what  incompre- 
hensible folly,  practise  the  ceremonies  of  Christianity, 
chiefly  those  instituted  by  the  Romish  priests.  As  I 
was  studying  these  doctrines  and  myriads  of  others, 
my  first  thought  was  to  believe  that  I  was  in  error,  and 
that  I  ought  to  rest  easy  in  the  arms  of  scepticism ; 
but  a  secret  voice  whispered  in  me,  that  the  star  of 
Christianity  was  not  false  ;  that  scepticism  was  a  doc- 
trine of  death  ;  that  truth  was  not  a  chimera ;  and  that 
even  truths  existed,  the  knowledge  of  which  was  of  the 
highest  importance  to  man,  namely :  Does  one  God 
eternal  exist  ?  If  he  exists,  are  there  connections  from 
man  to  him  ?  If  there  are,  what  are  they  1  Has  God 
established  connections  between  man  and  his  fellow- 
men  1  If  he  has  established  any,  what  are  they  1 

"  I  then  asked  myself,  Where  can  I  find  the  solu- 
tion of  these  vital  questions  ?  Will  it  be  in  the  word 
and  the  works  of  men,  or  in  nature,  submitted  to  the 
test  of  my  reason  ?  Then  I  commenced  to  inquire 
after  it  in  the  word  and  works  of  men.  First,  I  put  to 
myself  this  question :  Is  it  in  history  ? 

"  Behold  two  men  who  write  the  life  of  an  individ- 
ual, of  a  people,  or  of  humanity.  The  one  affirms,  the 
other  denies ;  the  one  praises,  the  other  censures  ;  the 


PA.TJL   AXD   JULIA.  197 

one  approves,  the  other  condemns  ;  the  one  avows,  the 
other  keeps  silence  ;  the  one  puts  forth  proofs,  the 
other  rejects  them ;  the  one  conceals  the  sources 
whence  he  has  drawn  his  documents,  the  other  wishes 
us  to  believe  his  word  without  any  further  examina- 
tion. What  is,  then,  unhappily  for  truth,  the  compass 
of  the  historian  ?  Integrity  and  good  faith  ?  No ; 
most  generally  prejudice,  whence  flow  his  opinions,  his 
political,  social,  or  religious  faith,  his  material  inter- 
ests, his  ambitious  views,  the  benefit  of  his  religion  or 
of  his  country. 

"  Are  there  not  laudable  exceptions  ?  Yes,  undoubt- 
edly, a  friend  of  humanity  delights  himself  in  believ- 
ing there  are.  But  how  can  we  discriminate  the  tares 
from  the  wheat  ?  How  distinguish  the  conscientious 
man  from  the  man  who  obeys  an  influence  ?  The 
writer  says  to  himself,  '  In  attempting  to  write  history, 
I  accomplish  a  great  and  sacred  duty,  because  it  ema- 
nates from  the  vital  principle  of  human  fraternity. 
Humanity  has  a  triple  manifestation  :  manifestation  in 
the  past,  manifestation  in  the  present,  and  manifesta- 
tion in  the  future.  All  individual  acts  form  by  their 
succession  the  great  river  of  general  acts,  which  rolls 
and  confounds  its  water  in  the  immense  ocean  of  hu- 
man activity.  Channel  of  transmission,  I  ought  not 
to  hold  captive  the  waters  of  truth  and  of  facts  ;  I 
ought  to  stand  by  and  let  them  run  as  they  are,  wheth- 
er clear  or  muddy.  Mandatory  of  present  humanity  to 
enlighten  that  of  the  future,  I  ought  not  to  put  in  its 
hands  a  dubious  light ;  but  as  the  mission  of  instruc- 
tion is  sublime,  so  also  the  task  is  "great  and  the  re- 
sponsibility solemn.  I  then  owe  myself  to  truth.'  And 
17* 


198  PAUI,   ANJ)    JULIA. 

he  writes.  But  scarcely  has  he  traced  a  line  when  a 
painful  reflection  oppresses  his  soul ;  his  hand  hecomes 
cold,  and  the  pen  drops  from  his  fingers.  He  says  to 
himself,  '  I  write,  hut  individuality  triumphs  ;  egotism 
has  the  sway.  All  the  evils  which  overflow  humanity 
flow  from  egotistic  power ;  it  bears  in  its  flanks  all  the 
errors  and  all  the  crimes  which  I,  faithfully  echoing, 
shall  transmit  to  posterity.  I  am  like  a  broken  in- 
strument, the  vibrating  strings  of  which  emit  harsh 
sounds,  stifling  at  their  birth  all  the  fruits  of  my  re- 
searches and  observations.'  Then  this  man  startles ; 
and  the  despot,  who  stares  at  him  because  he  fears  his 
talent  and  the  revelation  of  shameful  truths,  at  first 
menaces  and  scowls,  then  flatters  and  lulls  him  in  these 
enervating  prospects :  '  You  have  senses ;  I  will  give 
them  delight.  Fortune  distinguishes  ;  you  shall  have 
gold.  Honors  aggrandize  and  elevate  ;  I  offer  you 
dignities.  You  are  endowed  with  a  high  mind ;  before 
you  incense  shall  burn.  Be  a  vassal  of  my  deity,  and 
I  will  make  you  a  demigod.'  Then  the  energy  of  that 
man  melts  before  selfishness.  From  sublime  he  be- 
comes vulgar ;  from  independent  he  becomes  servile. 
He  bends  the  -knee  to  the  infamous  idol  of  a  human 
god,  sells  his  liberty  to  a  tyrant,  measures  himself  by 
him,  moulds  his  ideas  on  his  degraded  thoughts,  his 
conscience  to  crime  ;  he  writes,  and,  instead  of  offering 
himself  to  humanity  as  a  burnt  offering  on  the  altar 
of  truth,  immolates  himself  to  egotism  on  the  altar  of 
falsehood. 

"  Where  is  the  man  whose  integrity  has  not  become 
feeble  before  corrupters  ?  Where  is  the  genius  among 
any  people  which  has  not  been  depressed  under  the 


PATTI,    AND    JULIA.  199 

weight  of  absolute  power  ?  Still,  that  man  and  many 
others  have  existed ;  but  how  difficult  it  is  to  discrim- 
inate them  in  perusing  history !  At  the  time  when 
France  was  overspread  with  immortal  men,  how  many 
among  them  kept  themselves  honorable  and  repulsed 
servility?  Would  Bossuet  have  flattered,  if  a  royal 
egotist  had  not  harnessed  to  his  chariot  this  royal  tal- 
ent ?  *  Would  he  have  opposed  the  pretensions  of 
Rome,  —  which  were  unjust  and  absurd,  it  is  true, — 
if  an  iron  power  had  not  weighed  upon  him  ?  Two 
hands  held  the  pen  of  Bossuet  —  his  and  that  of  Louis 
XIV.  Fenelon,  that  privileged  understanding,  that 
Christian  heart,  that  hero  of  virtue,  that  sensible  and 
loving  soul,  declared  he  loved  humanity.  He  pro- 
duced, to  "advocate  its  interests,  one  of  the  literary 
masterpieces  which  honor  the  human  mind.  But  that 
man  who  said,  '  The  nation  is  myself,'  added,  *  The  im- 
maculate is  myself,  truth  is  myself,  I  am  impeccable. 
God  is  omnipotent  in  the  universe  ;  I  am  omnipotent 
in  France.  Let  every  thing  perish  which  converges 
not  to  me  and  sustains  not  my  omnipotence.'  Then 
this  Haman,  intoxicated  with  pride  because  a  Mordecai 
adored  not  his  thoughts,  but  said,  '  Kings  are  created 
for  the  people,'  caused  the  gibbet  of  the  exile  to  be 
reared  for  the  friend  of  God  and  of  men.  Jealous 
Herod,  he  wished  to  stifle  in  his  furious  embraces  the 
beautiful  child  of  the  soul  of  Fenelon.  Believing  it 
dead,  he  threw  it  into  the  pit  of  oblivion  ;  and,  fearing 
its  resurrection,  he  placed  guards  around  its  tomb. 
But  the  moment  of  cold  equality  and  silent  fraternity 

*  LOTUS  XIV.,  King  of  France. 


200  PAUL    AXI>    JULIA. 

came.  He  who  believed  himself  great,  a  god  on  earth, 
died ;  and  the  shrouded  reappeared  in  life.  Still,  F^- 
nelon  *  sacrificed  truth  to  his  private  interests ;  as 
proof,  he  entreated  Bossuet,  whilst  exiled  in  La  Trera- 
"blade,  to  reconcile  him  to  Louis  XIV. 

"  If,  then,  in  that  epoch  of  gigantic  development  of 
human  intelligence,  truth  remained  concealed  under  a 
"bushel,  was  truth  on  the  chandelier  in  that  dark  age- 
in  which  the  eye  of  the  appreciator  cannot  read  ?  —  in 
that  age  when  rare  men  only  knew  how  to  trace  and 
reproduce  their  thoughts  —  when  kings,  legislators, 
and  promulgators  of  doctrines  made  their  own  history 
or  dictated  it  to  their  courtiers  ?  How  would  important 
truths  have  shone  forth  since  the  fall  of  Rome,  when 
tyrants,  succeeding  to  power,  killed  the  Christians,  and 
•wished  to  annihilate  their  doctrines  ?  How  would 
they  have  shone  forth  in  Asia,  when  instruction  was 
there  proscribed  by  the  laws ;  when  the  caliphs,  in  the? 
name  of  those  laws,  burned  the  rich  library  of  Alexan- 
dria, and  all  others  within  their  reach  ?  How  would 
they  have  shone  forth  in  Europe  during  the  reign 
of  feudalism  —  at  the  time  when  lords,  marquises, 
viscounts,  counts,  dukes,  kings,  and  emperors  had  in 


*  We  read  in  the  works  of  Maury,  the  celebrated  orator  of  the 
French  revolution  of  the  last  century,  and  in  several  histories,  th.it 
Louis  XIV.  persecuted  Fenelon  on  account  of  his  book  entitled 
"  Telemachus  ; "  that  he  exiled  him  from  his  court,  forbade  the 
editors  to  print  his  book,  ordered  the  public  officers  to  seize  and 
burn  all  the  copies  of  it.  All  thus  disappeared ;  but,  after  the  death 
of  Louis  XIV.,  a  ralet  de  chambre  of  Fenelon  gave  the  printer  a 
copy  of  the  manuscript  which  he  had  concealed.  Thus  was  pre- 
served this  valuable  book,  which  has  been  translated  into  so  many 
languages. 


PAUL    A^D   JULIA.  201 

their  hands  the  sceptre  of  tyranny,  and  destroyed,  in 
all  classes  of  society,  intelligent  men  who  wished  to 
raise  their  voice  against  ignorance  and  tyranny  ?  —  at 
the  time  when  the  lords,  etc.,  killed  the  poor  people 
with  swords  hallowed  by  the  bishops ;  when  kings  and 
emperors  knelt  before  a  pope,  and,  kissing  his  feet, 
obtained  from  him,  in  the  name  of  God,  permission  to 
slay  their  subjects  as  the  butchers  slay  lambs  ;  at  the 
time  when  the  people,  reduced  to  be  pariah,  adored  all 
these  tiger  gods  who  devoured  them,  and  bowed  before 
the  priests  who  imposed  upon  them  such  worship ;  at 
the  time,  especially,  when  the  blood  shed  by  the  Papa- 
cy overflowed  Europe,  when  its  inquisitors  burned  both 
books  and  authors  ?  Therefore  I  must  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  cannot  find  in  history  these  original 
truths. 

"  Young  Greek,  I  then  said  to  myself,  Where  can  I 
find  them  —  in  philosophical  or  religious  systems  ? 
But  logic  is  flexible  and  elastic ;  each  philosopher 
bends  and  applies  it  to  his  opinions.  Each  religion 
produces  facts  and  proofs.  I  have  studied  all  systems  ; 
and  not  one  explains  to  me  even  what  my  senses  ex- 
perience :  how  can  they  inform  me  about  what  I  can 
reach  only  with  the  eyes  and  the  hands  of  my  intel- 
ligence ? 

*'  Where,  then,  find  these  truths,  the  knowledge  of 
which  is  my  most  earnest  longing  ?  for  I  feel  in  myself 
a  burning  fire,  an  active  flame,  which  consumes  me. 
I  know  not  the  hand  that  has  lighted  this  fire  ;  but  I 
feel  that  it  devours  me.  Where,  then,  shall  I  find 
them  ?  In  the  teaching  of  orators,  wise  and  learned 
professors  r  It  is  true  that  the  fascination  of  their 


202  PAUL    AXD    JTJLIA. 

talents  has  surprised  me,  that  the  penetration  of  their 
minds  has  astonished  me,  that  their  genius  has  struck 
me  with  admiration.  But  all  their  opinions  are  di- 
vergent ;  they  have  not  settled  my  mind ;  they,  on  the 
contrary,  have  obscured  all  the  .questions.  What  I 
would  have  denied  I  am  inclined  to  affirm  ;  what  I 
would  have  affirmed  I  am  inclined  to  deny  ;  what  was 
certainty  with  me  is  for  me  doubtful ;  my  mind  is  dark 
on  all  the  most  important  questions. 

"  Where,  then,  find  these  truths  ?  In  the  general 
reason  of  people  ?  But  that  which  is  idolatry  in  Ger- 
many is  lawful  adoration  in  the  States  of  the  Church. 
What  is  superstition  in  England  is  the  worship  of  Ita- 
ly. What  is  holy  and  sacred  in  Rome  is  profane  and 
despised  in  London.  What  is  virtue  in  the  countries 
of  the  north  is  a  vice  and  a  crime  among  the  nations 
of  the  south.  What  is  honorable  in  Constantinople  is 
a  dishonor  in  Paris.  A  stronger  proof  yet :  if  I  cross 
a  river,  pass  a  mountain,  or  overleap  the  landmark 
which  separates  two  empires,  candor  becomes  false- 
hood, virtue  vice,  and  error  truth. 

"  Shall  I,  then,  after  being  exhausted  in  vain  efforts, 
despair  of  quenching  my  thirst  for  a  knowledge  of 
these  important  truths  ?  No.  Whether  God  exists 
or  exists  not,  whether  I  am  to  live  forever  or  only  for 
a  moment,  I  ought  to  be  able  to  satisfy  the  imperious 
wants  of  my  being.  Study  ought  to  afford  bread  to 
my  soul,  as  labor  procures  it  for  my  body.  An  inter- 
nal voice  whispers  it  to  me  ;  a  secret  sentiment  makes 
me  aware  of  it. 

"  If  I  look  upon  myself,  I  find  two  beings  —  the  one 
visible,  the  other  invisible ;  the  one  corporeal,  which 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  203 

assimilates  me  to  animals,  the  other  intellectual,  which 
constitutes  me  the  king  of  the  material  universe.  The 
first  is  richly  provided  with  all  that  is  necessary  for  its 
preservation  and  growth  ;  the  other  consequently  pos- 
sesses more  eminently  every  thing  which  is  required 
for  its  existence  and  development.  But  among  these 
means  of  existence  and  development,  the.most  inherent 
in  its  nature  is  reason  ;  it  is  the  compass  which  directs 
men  on  the  ocean  of  truth,  the  torch  which  lights  them, 
the  eye  that  watches  and  informs  them.  If  it  misleads 
men,  and  conducts  them  in  the  obscurity  of  ignorance 
to  the  precipice  of  error,  it  is  because  they  divest  of  its 
native  energy  this  power  of  the  soul,  which  is  to  its  lifa 
what  the  eye  is  to  the  body.  Is  the  eye  clear  and 
simple  ?  —  the  body  moves  in  light.  Are  the  exterior 
agents  more  or  less  injurious  to  the  organs  constitut- 
ing the  eye  ?  —  the  motion  of  the  body  is  more  or  less 
obscure.  Therefore,  if  the  reason  is  preserved  pure, 
the  mind  lives  in  light ;  whereas  it  exists  more  or  less 
in  darkness  in  proportion  as  it  has  received  a  culture 
more  or  less  deleterious.  Since,  then,  reason  is  the 
eye  of  the  mind,  if  it  has  not  been  vitiated  by  a  false 
culture,  if,  artless  and  upright,  it  remains  free  from  all 
passions,  if  it  has  observed  without  determining,  and 
studied  the  different  systems  without  adopting  them, 
it  has  then  preserved  its  native  purity.  The  mind 
which  it  instructs  is  in  light ;  it  can  then  boldly,  with- 
out any  fear,  advance  in  its  development  and  in  the 
acquisition  of  truth. 

*'  But  my  reason  informs  me  that  it  is  not  in  monu- 
ments and  human  institutions  that  I  ought  to  seek 
the  solution  of  these  vital  questions,  because  their  de- 


204  PAUL    AXI)    JUJ.IA. 

lineations  are  too  dark  and  incomplete  ;  that  it  is  not 
in  the  ideas  of  men,  because  ignorance  and  a  bigoted 
faith  causes  them  to  be  either  systematic  or  as  light 
as  the  wind,  but  in  that  which  is  stable  and  out  of 
their  reach  in  nature. 

"  I  then  open  this  great  book,  of  which  every  artless 
and  pure  hand  can  break  the  seal,  without  being  mis- 
led in  its  pages,  without  being  lost  in  the  labyrinth  of 
systems,  the  inventors  thereof  wish  to  apply  that  which 
is  to  that  which  their  imagination  creates.  I  question 
it  on  myself  and  on  beings  existing  around  me  ;  it  re- 
sponds, that  there  is  one  God  eternal,  and  one  alone ; 
that  a  conscious  link  between  God  and  man  exists,  viz. : 
there  is  a  tie  of  love  generating  duty  ;  that  God  has 
established  connections  between  man  and  his  fellow- 
men,  viz. :  the  tie  of  love  generating  duty. 

"  Young  Greek,  I  concluded,  then,  that  the  gospel 
had  not  deceived  me ;  that  it  is  only  the  echo  of  my 
reason  when  it  says  to  man,  — 

" '  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind. 
This  is  the  first  and  great  commandment.  And  the 
second  is  like  unto  it,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself.  On  these  two  commandments  hang  all  the 
law  and  the  prophets.' 


PAUI,    AND   JULIA. 


205 


CHAPTER    XXXI, 

VARIOUS    CHRISTIAN"    CHURCHES. ANECDOTE.  

ROMANISM. 

THEN  became  a  disciple 
of     Christ.      But     among 
Christians  who,  like    my- 
self, believed  the    gospel, 
the   greater    number    did 
not   even   admit   the  fun- 
damental   truths,    though 
expressed  in  this  sacred  code. 
They  fabricated  an  infinite  number  of 
symbols,  which  are,  the  most  of  them, 
monstrous  mixtures   of   the   doctrines 
of  Christ  with  the  creations  of  their 
own  fancies   and  passions. 

"  I  will  not  attempt  to  speak  to  you, 
even  briefly,  of  my  inquiries  about  the 
doctrines  of  the  divers  sects,  which  have 
multiplied  to  infinity  in  Christendom  ; 
of  Romanism  —  but  I  forgot  that  you,  young  Greek, 
are  a  Roman  Catholic.  Do  you  allow  me  to  speak 
of  it  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Paul. 
Isram  continued  :  — 

"  I  will  not  speak  even  briefly  of  my  inquiries  on, 
Romanism  —  that  denomination  of  Christians,  or  rather 
idolaters,  which  has  given  birth  to,  and  perpetuated 
18 


206  PAUL    AND   JULIA. 

among  various  people,  discord  and  hatred  ;  which  has 
armed  and  empowered  tyrants  against  their  subjeets  in 
the  name  of  God  ;  which  has  choked  in  the  heart  the 
precious  seed  of  the  gospel ;  spread  ignorance,  fanati- 
cism, and  superstition  all  over  society  ;  caused  rivers  of 
blood  to  run ;  and  retarded,  for  so  many  ages,  the  im- 
provement, instruction,  and  happiness  of  mankind.  I 
will  limit  myself  to  telling  you  that  three  great  churches 
appeared  to  me  to  stand  triumphantly  over  the  frag- 
ments of  the  many  sects  which  figured,  and  figure  still, 
in  the  arena  of  doctrines,  wherein  the  struggles  arc  so 
animated  that  they  produce  bloody  conflicts.  Some 
have  fallen,  and  disappeared  forever  ;  others  are  dying 
and  agonizing ;  others,  however,  sustain  the  combat. 

"  One  of  these  churches,  that  of  the  Protestants, 
(which,  though  including  many  churches,  can  be  con- 
sidered as  an  only  church,)  has  been  predominating  for 
several  ages  in  the  northern  kingdoms  of  Europe,  and 
has  ramified  in  divers  countries  of  the  west  and  south. 
It  has  grown  powerful  in  America,  and  even  in  the 
islands  beyond  the  seas. 

"  Of  the  two  other  churches,  one,  that  of  the  Greeks, 
extends  its  dominion  over  the  religious  and  antique 
East ;  the  other,  that  of  the  Latins,  reigns  over  the 
greater  part  of  the  west  and  south  of  Europe.  It  in- 
vades Asia,  and  the  New  World,  and  extends  its 
branches  all  over  the  globe.  It  is  the  most  powerful 
among  the  churches,  though  mostly  absurd  and  in- 
jurious to  society.  The  symbols  of  the  last  two 
churches  are  almost  identical ;  they,  nevertheless,  have 
been  for  about  a  thousand  years  disunited,  and  advan- 
cing separately.  To  bring  before  your  eyes  the  dif- 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  20? 

ference  I  found  between  the  symbols  of  these  three 
churches,  I  will  relate  to  you  the  following  anecdote :  — 

"  I  embarked  at  London  for  Amsterdam.  The  sea 
being  ruffled,  and  the  winds  contrary,  navigation  was 
retarded.  To  charm  away  the  ennui  of  the  voyage, 
the  passengers  gave  themselves  up  to  the  pleasures  of 
sport  and  feasting.  I  remarked  among  them  a  group 
of  sober,  grave,  and  learned  men,  who  spent  their  time 
in  reading  or  speaking  of  travels,  literature,  history, 
arts,  and  sciences.  I  listened  to  their  conversation 
with  the  greatest  interest.  One  day  they  made  reli- 
gious questions  the  topic  of  their  conversation.  At 
first,  they  made  only  general  remarks  on  the  bearing 
of  religion  on  society ;  but  soon  after,  they  engaged  in 
a  dispute  on  this  subject. 

"  The  Protestant  reproached  the  Roman  Catholic 
with  intolerance  and  exclusiveness ;  accused  him  of 
having  a  faith  opposed  to  reason,  and  of  disguising,  in 
an  absurd  and  enticing  manner,  the  evangelical  dog- 
mas and  morals.  He  congratulated  the  Greek  Chris- 
tian upon  having  broken  off  from  Rome,  and  from  the 
bishops  of  the  West ;  upon  having  broken  off  the  yoke 
of  the  Papacy,  and  taken  immense  countries  from  its 
ambition  and  tyranny.  Yet  he,  at  the  same  time,  re- 
gretted that  he  had  preserved  in  his  creed  the  Catholic 
Judaism,  and  formed  the  desire  of  having  his  church 
regenerated  in  the  baptism  of  reason,  of  the  free  inter- 
pretation of  the  Scriptures,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

"  The  Greek  Christian  anathematized  the  Papacy, 
and  the  church  of  the  West ;  approved  the  Protestant 
in  his  desertion,  but  condemned  his  indifference  for 
Oriental  traditions,  and  for  practices  cemented  for  cen- 
turies in  the  Christian  religion. 


208  PATTI,    AND   JULIA. 

"The  Roman  Christian  reproached  the  Protestant 
for  the  allowance  that  he  had  made  of  reason  to  the 
detriment  of  authority,  and  also  for  incoherency  in  his 
creed,  as  having  given  birth  to  a  great  number  of  sects. 
He  charged  the  Greek  Christian  with  pride,  with  in- 
adequacy in  his  creed,  and  with  his  separation  from  the 
Romish  church. 

"  '  What  is,  then,  your  creed  ? '  asked  the  Protestant 
and  Greek  Christian. 

"  '  I  believe  all  that  the  pope  teaches  me  through  the 
bishops  and  the  priests.' 

"  '  Would  you  believe  all  that  the  pope  should  fancy 
to  impose  upon  you  ? ' 

"  '  Certainly.' 

"  '  If  he  obliged  you  to  believe  that  you  do  not  ex- 
ist, should  and  could  you  believe  it  ? ' 

"  '  Certainly.' 

"  '  We  beg  leave  to  say  to  you  that  you  would  not 
and  could  not  believe  it.' 

"  '  I  assure  you  that  I  should,  could,, and  would  be- 
lieve it ;  for  the  pope  is  the  vicar  of  Jesus  Christ,  con- 
sequently the  lieutenant  of  God.  Since  I  ought  to 
believe  the  word  of  God,  I  ought  to  believe  the  word 
of  the  pope.' 

"  At  this  answer,  the  Protestant  and  the  Greek 
Christian  smiled  with  astonishment  and  pity.  The 
Roman  Catholic  then  rose,  and  with  a  loud,  energetic, 
and  imperious  tone  said  to  them,  — 

"  '  You  listen  to  my  words  with  astonishment  and 
contempt,  exactly  as  the  Jews  did  to  the  doctrine  of 
Jesus  Christ.  You  have  hardened  your  ears  and  heart 
to  Romanism  ;  but  know,  and  keep  in  your  mind,  thai 


PAUL   AXD    JULIA.  209 

out  of  my  church  you  are  branches  severed  from  the 
trunk  of  Christianity,  thereby  dead  ;  that  you  are  be- 
fore my  eyes  worse  than  the  heathens  and  the  publicans ; 
that  you  cannot  be  saved,  and  are  destined  to  an  eter- 
nal and  certain  reprobation ;  that  you  are  enemies  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  anathematized  by  his  church ;  that 
you  bear  engraved  on  your  foreheads  this  ineffaceable 
sentence  and  malediction  —  Reprobates  !  ' 

"  By  politeness  the  Protestant  and  the  Greek  Chris- 
tian did  not  reply  ;  still  a  satirical  smile  was  delineated 
on  their  lips. 

"  Though  the  following  circumstances  do  not  pertain 
to  my  subject,  I  relate  them  to  complete  the  account  of 
this  anecdote. 

"  A  Jew  who  was  witness  of  the  dispute,  then  spoke 
and  said,  '  Christians,  it  is  not  astonishing  that  you 
have  different  creeds,  because  the  Christian  religion, 
being  based  on  error,  bears  in  its  bosom  division,  an» 
with  it  a  germ  of  dissolution.  My  church  alone  pos- 
sesses truth.  My  faith  alone  is  the  true  one.  Man- 
kind was  isolated  in  breaking  the  bond  of  union  •wine* 
existed  between  them  and  the  Divinity.  Wi*h  gen- 
erations and  ages  the  primitive  traditions  had  been  ef- 
faced. Ignorance  had  given  birth  to  error ;  and  error 
had  engendered  the  desertion  of  all  original  truths, 
even  that  of  the  unity  of  God  and  his  spirituality.  All 
organization  of  matter  which  surprised,  flattered,  01 
frightened,  had  been  called  God.  Then  God  said  to 
himself,  "  A  nation  shall  be  great  and  privileged  among 
other  nations.  It  shall  bear  in  its  hands  the  torch  of 
truth,  which  shall  give  light  to  the  present  genera- 
tions, and  those  of  the  future."  This  was  the  Jewisb 
18* 


210  PAUL  AND  JULIA. 

nation.  A  man  raised  up  among  the  people,  he  dic- 
tated to  them  the  most  sublime  and  most  perfect  po- 
litical, social,  and  religious  legislation  that  has  ever 
appeared.  God  constituted  him  his  prophet,  and  the 
forerunner  of  the  Messiah,  who  is  not  yet  come.  He 
will  appear  only  in  a  future  age  for  the  salvation  and 
glory  of  Israel.  This  man  was  Moses.' 

"  '  O  Jew,'  replied  the  Christians,  '  Moses  was,  it 
is  true,  a  great  prophet.  God  revealed  to  him  your 
religion  ;  but  it  is  incomplete  and  full  of  imperfections. 
In  the  sight  of  the  Most  High  it  was  only  symbolic, 
only  figurative,  only  preparatory  to  the  religion  of  Him 
who  is  truly  the  Messiah,  and  whose  law  is  the  fulfil- 
ment of  that  of  Moses.' 

"  '  Christians,'  spoke  a  sceptic,  '  believe  me,  you  de- 
ceive yourselves.  Christ  was  not  the  Messiah ;  he 
was  only  a  philosopher,  a  profound  legislator,  a  great 
man  if  you  will,  but  nothing  else.  Your  people,  O 
Jew,  are  an  absurd  people.  Your  Moses  was  only  an 
illustrious  impostor.  United  secretly  to  the  Egyptian 
priesthood,  he  stripped  it  of  all  that  was  true  in  its 
doctrine.  More  artful  than  the  magicians,  he  con- 
founded them  with  a  mean  worship.  Brought  up  in 
the  court  of  Pharaoh,  from  the  low  he  wished  to  be- 
come the  great ;  from  the  subject  he  wished  to  become 
the  ruler ;  from  the  oppressed  to  be  the  tyrant.  His 
tribe  being  in  servitude,  he  said  to  them,  "  You  are 
slaves ;  follow  me :  God  has  revealed  to  me  that  you 
shall  be  free.  You  are  poor ;  follow  me  :  God  has  re- 
vealed to  me  that  you  shall  be  rich." 

"  '  By  his  imposture  he  made  an  ignorant  and  super- 
stitious king  turn  pale  upon  his  throne.  Ail  Egypt 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  211 

wept,  so  deeply  had  lie  thrown  her  into  misery.  He 
watered  with  blood  all  the  sand  of  this  vast  country. 
Israelites,  whose  science  was  limited  to  the  fabrication 
of  brick,  trembled  before  him  with  admiration  and 
with  stupor.  They  followed  him  ;  and  this  cruel  and 
ambitious  man,  before  giving  them  a  country,  be- 
fore changing  their  tents  for  dwellings,  pretended  to 
divine  intervention,  and  led  them  for  forty  years  in  a 
wilderness  of  a  few  months'  travel.  There  he  opened 
graves  for  millions  of  men.  Thousands  fell  by  his 
sword,  because  nakedness,  famine,  and  thirst  drew 
complaints  from  them,  or  because  they  forgot  for  a  mo- 
ment his  doctrine,  pretended  to  be  descended  from 
heaven.  There  he,  pretending  again  to  divine  revela- 
tion, traced  puerile  statutes,  published  oppressive  laws, 
and  imposed  a  worship,  whose  despotism  is  mostly 
barbarous,  ignorant,  and  absurd.' 

"  The  Jew  and  the  Christians  exclaimed  indig- 
nantly, — 

"  '  Your  language,  O  philosopher,  is  a  tissue  of 
error,  bad  will,  and  calumny.  The  hatred  and  ani- 
mosity which  overflow  your  heart  blacken  your  lips.' 

"  At  these  words  their  spirits  became  heated ;  they 
began  to  contend  harshly  ;  and  a  quarrel  ensued.  For- 
tunately their  friends  intervened,  and  prayed  them  to 
put  an  end  to  the  dispute. 

"  Unable  yet  to  discern  which  was  the  true  church, 
I  continued  to  observe  and  to  inform  myself.  When  I 
had  travelled  over  and  studied  almost  the  whole  of 
Europe,  I  set  out  for  Rome  to  visit  that  so  celebrated 
bulwark  of  Catholicism.  In  seeing  this  ancient  capital 
of  the  universe,  this  rendezvous  of  all  monuments  and 
\ 


:  *  •- 
212  PAUL   AXD    JULIA. 

souvenirs,  where  rest  the  ashes  of  martyrs  and  those  of 
their  executioners,  where  repose  in  glory  the  remains 
of  the  first  apostles,  and  in  opprobrium  those  of  their 
tyrants,  I  was  deeply  moved.  I  there  devoted  some 
time  in  questioning  my  memory,  gathering  my  obser- 
vations, pondering  the  history  of  past  ages,  analyzing 
the  present,  and  raising  the  veil  of  futurity,  in  or- 
der to  throw  light  upon  the  different  doctrines,  and  to 
fix  firmly  my  religious  faith.  I  studied  particularly 
Romanism.  I  not  only  did  not  find  in  that  church  the 
primitive  Christian  purity,  but  I  shrieked  with  horror 
at  seeing  the  corruption  of  its  members ;  at  seeing 
the  indescribable  turpitude  and  infamy  of  its  priests, 
monks,  bishops,  cardinals,  etc. ;  especially  at  seeing 
the  impiety,  immorality,  selfishness,  intolerance,  and 
tyranny  of  the  pope,  or  rather  of  that  heathen  pontiff, 
who  is  a  sacred  hypocrite  and  tyrant,  the  very  Anti- 
christ of  Revelation  ! 


PAUL    AND    JULIA. 


213 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 


RETURN    OF    ISRAM    TO    CONSTANTINOPLE.  END    OF 

THE     RELATION     OF    ISRAM.  HIS    CONYERSATION 

WITH    HIS    FATHER    ON    CHRISTIANITY,    MAHOMET- 
ANISM,    ROMANISM,    AND    CHRISTIAN    FRATERNITY. 

AUL,  my  father,  who  desired 
my  return  after  so  long  an  ab- 
sence, welcomed  me  home 
with  so  much  the  more  eager- 
ness and  joy,  because  he 
thought  that  henceforth  I 
should  be  the  glory  and  con- 
solation of  his  old  age.  He 
presented  me  to  the  emperor, 
who  promised  my  father  to 
promote  me  to  high  offices  and 
dignities  ;  but  offices  and  dig- 
nities had  no  attraction  for 
me.  Intending  to  become  an 
apostle  of  fraternity  among  men,  I  could  not  contribute 
by  my  services  to  strengthen  a  tyrant  on  his  throne  ; 
I  could  not  determine  to  be  myself  the  tyrant  of  my 
brethren. 

"  My  father,  who  took  notice  of  my  indifference  to 
such  a  bright  prospect,  could  not  penetrate  the  cause 
of  it.  He  then  closely  observed  my  conversations,  and 
watched  my  movements.  One  day  he  o^°ned  v's 
heart,  and  said  to  me,  — 


214    • 


PAUL   AJTD   JTTMA. 


son,  since  your  return  to  the  paternal  roof,  you 
are  thoughtful  and  melancholy.     Why  are  you  so  ? ' 
"  *  My  father,  you  are  mistaken.     I  am  not  sad.' 
"  *  You  do  not  confess  it.     But  tell  me,  why  are  you 
not  happy  ? ' 

"  *  My  father,  I  am  happy,  particularly  to  see  you 


again. 


** '  Your  response  gives  me  joy.  The  gratitude  of  a 
son  is  so  sweet  to  the  heart  of  a  father !  Why  then 
are  you  given  to  painful  reflections  ?  ' 

"  *  They  are  not  painful ;  they  are  only  serious.' 

**  *  They  arc  only  serious  ?  But  is  not  your  future 
prospect  brilliant  and  secure  ?  Will  you  not  fill  im- 
portant offices,  and  furnish  a  career  of  honor?  Will 
you  not  be  promoted  to  one  of  the  highest  social  sta- 
tions of  the  empire  ?  ' 

'*  *  Those  things  do  not  trouble  my  mind.' 

"  *  Is  it  the  fear  of  wanting  wealth  ?  But  you  will 
be  rich.' 

** '  It  is  not  the  object  of  my  desires.' 

"*Do  you  doubt  of  obtaining  honors?  But  yon 
will  be  one  of  the  great  of  the  empire ;  you  are  already 
one  of  the  favorites  of  the  emperor.' 

" '  My  father,  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  about  it, 
but  I  am  far  from  thirsting  after  honors.' 

"  '  My  son,  I  am  astonished  at  your  language.  Do 
yon  forget  that  I  am  one  of  the  great  of  the  empire, 
and  that  you  ought  to  inherit  the  fame  of  your  father  ? 
What  suspicions  yon  awake  in  my  mind! ' 

"  '  Be  sure,  my  father,  that  your  son  will  never  crim- 
son your  cheeks  with  shame.  He  will  be  always 
worthy  of  you.' 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

"  '  Tell  me  why  the  name  of  Mahomet  is  so  rarely  on 
your  lips.' 

" '  Because  I  rarely  have  occasion  to  speak  of  the 
prophet.' 

"  '  You  sometimes  go  to  the  Mosque  of  St.  Sophia, 
but  it  is  only  to  bury  yourself  in  its  library.  I  do  not 
see  you  at  the  ceremonies,  and  you  never  assist  in  the 
assembly  of  believers.  Explain  this  to  me.' 

"  '  I  pray  in  secret.' 

"  '  You  have  frequent  interviews  with  the  Chris- 
tians ? ' 

"  *  Yes,  for  my  instruction.' 

"  '  On  what  subject  ?     On  the  Christian  religion  ?  ' 

"  '  I  already  have  religious  convictions.' 

"  '  Are  they  not  those  of  your  father  ?  ' 

"  '  My  religious  convictions  are  the  love  of  God  and 
of  my  fellow-men.' 

"  '  And  of  Mahomet  and  the  Koran  :  ' 

"  '  No,  my  father.' 

"  '  Why  so  ?  ' 

"  '  Mahomet  —  permit  me  to  say  so  — has  not  loved 
his  fellow-men.  His  Koran  is  not  a  code  of  legisla- 
tion which  can  realize  the  happiness  of  mankind.' 

" '  You  are  then  no  longer  a  disciple  of  the  great 
prophet  ? ' 

"  '  Pardon  me,  my  father.  My  answer  will  afflict 
you  ;  but  I  owe  myself  to  truth  and  to  my  conscience 
—  I  am  one  no  longer.' 

"  Young  Greek,  when  I  pronounced  these  words,  my 
father  turned  pale,  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  ground, 
appeared  deeply  grieved,  and  kept  a  long  silence.  He 
then,  raising  his  eyes  to  heaven,  exclaimed,  *  Unfortu- 


216  PATTL   JLND   JTTLIA. 

nate  father !  I  have  sent  my  son  into  distant  countries ; 
he  left  me  believer,  and  he  returns  to  me  an  apostate!' 
and  turning  to  me  he  said,  — 

"  *  Unfortunate  son,  you  have  then  abjured  your  re- 
ligion ?  ' 

"  «  Yes,  my  father.' 

*' '  Which  one  is  yours  at  present  ?  ' 

"  '  I  am  a  Christian.' 

"  '  Why  are  you  now  a  Christian  ?  ' 

*' '  Because  Jesus  Christ  has  taught  men,  by  his  word 
and  his  example,  a  doctrine  which  harmonizes  with  my 
reason  in  all  points,  and  which  is  summed  up  in  two 
precepts :  Love  God  and  man.  No  philosopher  or 
prophet  has  ever  taught  any  thing  more  simple,  more 
sublime,  and  yet  more  analogous  to  the  wants  of  man, 
considered  either  as  an  individual  or  as  a  member  of 
society.  During  the  short  visit  Christ  made  on  earth, 
each  of  his  steps  was  marked  by  an  heroic  act  of  self- 
denial,  of  love  to  God  and  to  men.  His  life  was  the 
faithful  echo  of  his  teaching ;  and  we  can  say  of  him, 
He  lived  and  died  as  a  God,' 

"  '  My  son,  Mahomet  has  been  the  greatest  among 
prophets.' 

"  '  My  father,  I  do  not  believe  it.' 

"  *  My  son,  Moses  and  Jesus  prophesied,  it  is  true. 
One  performed  prodigies,  gave  to  the  Hebrews  laws 
and  a  country,  and  also  proclaimed  truths  to  them ; 
but  his  legislation  was  not  even  the  sketch  of  that  of  a 
great  people.  He  made  them  conquer  only  a  limited 
country.  His  doctrine  was  narrow  and  in  swaddling 
clothes,  as  his  people  were  petty  and  in  the  cradle  of 
civilization.  Jesus  came  afterwards  ;  he  wrought  mir- 

%.A*vT 


3PA.UL  AND  JULIA.  217 

fcdes,  and  brought  a  more  profound  legislation.  His 
doctrine  was  more  elevated  ;  but  the  truths  which  ho 
taught  are  obscure  and  incomprehensible.  Behold  the 
division  that  you  doubtless  have  remarked  among  his 
disciples.  God  then  raised  up  Mahomet,  who.  was 
greater  than  they.  He  called  him  into  the  wilderness, 
and  taught  hint  the  celestial  truths  written  in  the 
Koran ;  then  said  to  him,  "  Be  my  apostle." 

"  '  Mahomet  descended  from  the  mountains,  laid  the 
foundations  of  a  vast  empire,  organized  millions  of 
men,  and  conquered  one  half  of  the  world  by  his  word, 
his  doctrine,  and  his  sword.  He  was  even  powerful 
enough  to  disdaia  the  weapon  of  the  miracle  workers.' 

"  '  My  father,  if  I  am  permitted,  I  will  tell  you  my 
opinion  about  Mahomet,' 

"  '  Speak,' 

"  '  He  was  an  ignorant,  though  celebrated  and  am- 
bitious man ;  an  infamous  impostor,  and  a  sanguinary 
despot.  He  wished  to  give  fetters  to  consciences,  to 
become  great  in  his  tribe,  to  be  their  tyrant,  and  through 
them  to  rule  the  universe.  Each  year  during  fifteen 
years  he  shut  himself  up  for  a  month  in  a  cavern  of 
Mount  Hera,  and  cultivating  the  love  of  the  marvellous, 
which  flatters  all  men,  attracts  and  fascinates  the  vul- 
gar, he  then  came  out  and  presented  himself,  saying,  — 

" '  "  The  angel  Gabriel  has  appeared  to  me,  and  God 
has  spoken  to  me  through  him.  He  has  dictated  to 
me  the  Koran,  and  favored  me  with  many  pages  of  it, 
written  in  golden  letters.  '  I  commission  thee,'  he  haa 
said  to  me  ;  '  be  any  prophet.  Go  to  the  tribe.  Pre- 
sent to  them  this  book ;  it  contains  my  wishes,  my 
judgments,  my  promises,  and  my  threats.  If  they  De- 
19 


218  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

lieve  not,  tell  them  that  I  have  commissioned  thee  to 
use  the  sword  and  the  flame.  If  they  believe,  order 
them  to  follow  thee,  and  go  among  infidel  nations. 
Present  to  them  also  the  Koran.  If  they  demand  of 
thee  who  has  sent  thee,  respond,  Believe  or  die.'  "  A 
portion  of  the  people  only  believed,  and  the  remainder 
of  the  tribe  spurned  at  his  word.  He  then  took  the 
cimeter.  Dead  bodies  fell  around  him  as  numerous 
as  the  blades  of  grass  mowed  down  in  the  fields  by 
the  scythe.  He  saturated  the  sand  of  the  desert  with 
blood,  and  pillaged  flourishing  cities,  leaving  not  one 
stone  upon  another.  He  spread  through  immense 
countries  desolation,  pillage,  fire,  and  death.' 

"  '  God  directed  him  to  do  so.' 

"  '  How  could  God  have  directed  him  to  do  80  —  he 
\vho  holds  crime  in  horror  ?  He  had  never  spoken  to 
him.  In  proof  of  it,  he  was  not  able  to  prove  his  pre- 
tended divine  mission."  When  the  people  saw  the  heap 
of  dead  bodies  and  of  smoking  ruins,  and  the  flocks  of 
men,  women,  and  children  led  in  bondage,  they  were 
terrified,  and  exclaimed,  "We  believe."  Thus  Mahom- 
et implanted  his  faith. 

"  '  He  then  arrayed  himself  as  a  pontiff,  and  with 
sacrilegious  thoughts  and  impure  intentions,  with  the 
heart  of  a  tiger  and  the  hands  of  a  fratricide,  he  made 
to  the  Author  of  life  offerings  of  death ;  he  caused  to 
rise  to  the  Father  of  mankind  the  smoking  blood  of  his 
children ;  washed  his  temple  in  it,  and  let  drop  his 
assassinating  sword  even  on  the  altar  that  he  had 
crimsoned. 

"  '  He  took  with  one  hand  a  sceptre  that  God  had 
not  given  him,  and,  with  the  other  brandishing  his 


PAUL  AND  JULIA.  219 

cimeter,  lie  advanced  at  the  head  of  the  tribe,  presid- 
ing over  the  trembling  and  the  dead.  In  his  presence 
the  people  prostrated  themselves,  and  bent  their  heads 
in  the  dust  —  believed  and  adored.  He  murdered  all 
who  did  not  accept  his  doctrine  ;  advanced  through 
nations,  never  laying  aside  the  sword ;  and  he  ceased 
to  strike  and  to  plunge  the  weapon  in  the  breast  of 
those  he  called  infidels  only  when  his  arm,  exhausted, 
could  handle  no  longer  his  fratricidal  sword.  He  ap- 
propriated to  himself  the  spoils  of  his  victims ;  became 
the  richest  of  the  descendants  of  Ishmael ;  had  many 
wives ;  forced  his  most  zealous  defenders  and  his  most 
faithful  believers  to  yield  him  their  wives  when  he 
loved  them.  He  pushed  his  brutal  passions  so  far  as 
to  marry  a  virgin  eight  years  of  age.' 

"  My  father  interrupted  me  by  saying,  — 
"  '  Mahomet  was  a  saint,  the  elect  of  the  elect,  the 
favored  of  the  Most  High.     His  words  and  his  actions 
were  inspired  by  God.' 

"  I  continued  :  '  He  had,  it  is  true,  natural  talents ; 
but  he^made  them  serve  his  ignorance,  his  hypocrisy, 
his  vengeance,  his  perfidy,  his  lust,  his  pride,  his  am- 
bition ;  in  a  wordj  his  selfishness.  When,  extended  on 
the  bed  of  agony,  he  saw  that  the  prolongation  of  his 
life  was  hopeless,  and  yet  that  much  blood  remained  to 
be  spilled,  he  said  to  those  around  him,  "  Fight  against 
the  infidels,  until  all  false  religion  is  exterminated. 
Put  them  to  the  sword ;  spare  them  not ;  and,  when 
you  have  enfeebled  them  by  a  relentless  carnage,  reduce 
the  rest  to  slavery,  and  oppress  them  with  tributes."* 

*  Koran,  eh.  viii.  ver.  12,  13 ;  ix.  ver.  SO  ;  xlvii.  ver.  4. 


220  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

"  *  He  died,  and  left  to  mankind,  as  a  heritage,  the 
Koran  —  this  pretended  code  of  the  divine  word, 
wherein  all  crimes  have  their  apotheosis  ;  wherein  vices 
are  deified,  but  truth  and  virtue  have  scarcely  a  room ; 
wherein  ignorance,  annihilation  of  reason,  tyranny, 
debasement  of  woman,  and  degradation  of  human  na- 
ture are  commanded,  consecrated,  and  sanctioned,  on 
pain  of  death.' 

"  '  What  an  exaggeration  !  The  Koran  contains 
the  truth.' 

" '  My  father,  I  cannot  believe  that  the  truth  is 
contained  in  the  Koran.  It  is  only  in  the  gospel. 
The  caliphs,  worthy  successors  of  Mahomet,  remained 
among  the  believers  as  continuators  of  the  pretended 
mission  of  Mahomet,  as  heirs  of  his  wealth  and  of  his 
power.  They  have  nourished,  through  their  imans,  for 
many  centuries,  generations  of  more  than  sixty  millions 
of  men,  with  the  bread  of  ignorance,  corruption,  super- 
stition, and  fanaticism.  Of  them  they  made  beasts  of 
burden.  I  repeat  it,  they  assimilated  them  to  their 
flocks,  and  disposed  of  their  bodies  and  souls  aaiif  they 
had  been  their  own  property.  Even  more  recently, 
the  sultans  have  become  their  imitators  and  their 
brothers.  Every  day  we  witness  their  tyranny  and 
cruelty.' 

"  Paul,  when  I  spoke  so,  the  gestures  of  my  father 
were  impatient ;  his  glance  inflamed ;  his  visage  ex- 
•pressed  wrath.  He  could  not  restrain  himself  from 
interrupting  me. 

"  '  My  son,'  said  he,  '  your  language  is  strange  ;  it 
irritates  me.  You  calumniate  Mahomet,  and  blas- 
pheme his  creed.  If  he  has  spilled  blood,  and  violated 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA.  221 

the  laws  of  the  Koran,  it  was  by  the  direction  of  God. 
It  is  not  he  whe  instituted  tyranny,  but  God  himself. 
In  proof  of  it,  there  have  been  always  tyrants  and 
oppressed.  If  you  consider  these  facts  and  these  insti- 
tutions as  misfortunes,  know  that,  in  the  view  of  the 
Creator,  some  evils  are  inevitable  and  profitable  in 
society.' 

"  'My  father,'  I  replied,  'can  I  answer  you  without 
exciting  your  anger  ?  ' 

"  '  Speak  ;  open  to  me  freely  your  thoughts  and  sen- 
timents ;  for  in  spite  of  my  sorrow  and  displeasure,  I 
still  am  your  father.' 

"  '  My  father,  a  faith  may  not  be  imposed  by  the 
sword,  and  God  cannot  authorize  a  committal  of  crime  ; 
this  is  the  voice  of  reason.  Mahomet  has  been,  then, 
only  a  sanguinary  impostor,  a  wicked  wretch.  As  to 
tyranny,  God  is  not  its  author,  and  it  is  not  an  inev- 
itable and  profitable  evil  in  society. 

"  '  In  the  beginning,  all  men  had  God  for  a  Father, 
and  for  a  patrimony  the  universe :  together  they  had 
to  live  on  the  earth  as  the  children  of  the  same  family. 
But  selfish  men  denied  their  brothers,  and  constituted 
themselves  their  tyrants.  How  many  times  has  God 
pronounced  his  maledictions  against  them  !  how  many 
deliverers  of  humanity  has  he  called  out !  Is  it  not 
he  who  commissioned  Moses  to  deliver  Israel  from  the 
yoke  of  Pharaoh  ?  who  preceded  by  his  luminous  cloud 
a  great  nation  going  into  the  wilderness  to  obtain  lib- 
erty r  Is  it  not  he  who  sent  Jesus  Christ  on  earth  to 
announce  to  men  that  he  opened  heaven  to  them  ?  that 
all  are  brothers,  and  ought  to  love  one  another  ?  And 
these  tyrants,  because  the  people  marvelled  at  his  doc- 
19* 


222  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

trine,  and  his  works,  and  wished  to  call  him  the  Son  of 
God ;  because  he  was  the  son  of  an  artisan  ;  hecause  he 
opened  to  mankind  the  road  of  deliverance  in  preaching 
to  the  oppressors  that  the  oppressed  were  their  broth- 
ers, —  these  tyrants,  I  say,  made  him  their  victim, 
called  him  a  madman,  whipped  him,  crowned  him  \\  ith 
thorns,  spat  upon  him,  nailed  him  to  the  gibbet  of 
malefactors,  and  thereon  killed  him.  Afterwards  they 
slew  his  disciples  ;  and  did  not  admit  him  in  their 
Pantheon  until  they  discovered  that  the  faith  of  the 
people  in  his  mission  could  serve  their  interests. 

"  '  Therefore,  God  is  not  the  author  of  tyranny,  and 
it  is  not  an  inevitable  and  profitable  evil  in  society.  It 
•was  established  only  by  the  most  selfish  among  men, 
and  Mahomet  has  consecrated  it.  He  has  gone  so  far 
as  to  debase  woman  by  polygamy.' 

"  '  What  say  you,  my  son  ? '  responded  my  father. 
*  Mahomet"rhas  debased  woman  by  polygamy  !  Is  it  not 
the  will  of  God  that  woman  be  the  property  of  man  ? ' 

"  '  No,  my  father,'  I  replied,  '  God  has  not  created 
her  to  be  his  property,  but  his  companion.  To  love 
each  other  is  inherent  in  the  heart  of  man  and  woman ; 
but  love  is  exclusive.  A  man  who  has  several  wives, 
and  a  woman  who  has  several  husbands,  violates  this 
law  of  nature,  falls  into  a  disorder  of  the  senses,  a  ne- 
gation of  love,  and  a  degradation  of  the  heart. 

"  '  God  has  made  woman  the  blood  of  the  blood  of 
man,  the  flesh  of  his  flesh,  the  bone  of  his  bone,  the 
mind  of  his  mind,  the  heart  of  his  heart,  and  the  life 
of  his  life.  Separate  these  two  existences  and  both 
•wither,  because  the  parts  would  no  longer  form  a 
whole  ;  there  would  be  no  more  unity  in  the  plurality  ; 


PAUL   AND   JTTUA.  223 

not  that  I  condemn  celibacy,  for  Christ  remained  vir- 
gin, and  said  to  his  disciples,  "  He  that  is  able  to  re- 
ceive it,  let  him  receive  it." 

"  '  The  body  of  man  is  strong,  solid,  vigorous,  robust; 
that  of  woman  is  frail,  graceful,  slender,  delicate.  The 
character  of  man  is  violent,  energetic,  rude,  cold,  inflex- 
ible ;  that  of  woman  is  mild,  pliant,  soft,  ardent,  mal- 
leable. The  mind  of  man  is  strong,  extended,  profound, 
penetrating ;  that  of  woman  is  supple,  vivacious,  sub- 
tile, varied.  The  heart  of  man  is  silent,  austere,  noble, 
magnanimous  ;  that  of  woman  is  affable,  compassionate, 
sensitive,  heroic.' 

"  '  My  son,  this  is  not  the  nature  of  woman.' 

"  '  My  father,  you  are  right.  It  is  not  the  nature 
of  woman  in  the  Ottoman  empire,  because  Mahomet, 
the  caliphs,  and  the  sultans  have  annihilated  her  na- 
tive faculties ;  because  they  have  fashioned  her  with 
the  Koran.' 

"  I  continued  :  *  Man  builds  habitations  ;  woman 
charms  his  abode.  He  founds  cities ;  she  polishes 
them.  Sociability  is  inherent  in  the  nature  of  man ; 
woman  embellishes  society,  and  gives  it  mild  laws. 
Man  is  the  head  of  the  family ;  woman  is  its  body. 
Man  begets  children ;  woman  gives  them  light.  In  the 
heats  of  summer,  or  the  chilly  blasts  of  winter,  man  is 
exhausted  by  hard  labor ;  woman  provides  for  his 
wants.  When,  at  night,  he  returns  to  the  fireside, 
fatigued  and  down-hearted,  she  revives  his  stiffened 
limbs,  and  cheers  him  with  her  smile,  with  her  sooth- 
ing and  consoling  words.  Man  conceives  great  de- 
signs, executes  gigantic  undertakings  ;  woman  inspires 
him  with  courage.  Man  is  gladdened  and  strengthened 


FAUI,   AXT>   JUXIA, 

against  misfortunes;  woman  increases  his  joy  a  hun- 
dred fold,  and  adorns  his  triumph.  Man  reels  under 
adversity ;  woman  sustains  him.  Man  is  the  oak ; 
woman  is  the  ivy ;  if  the  ivy  creeps  upon  the  earth,,  it 
droops,  dies,  and  leaves  to  the  oak  but  an  isolated, 
poor,  and  languishing  life  ;  whereas,  if  the  ivy  interlaces 
the  oak  with  its  folds,  they  both  have  but  one  lifer 
which  is  bright,  happy,  vigorous,  and  secular  j  the  oak 
protects  it;  and  if  a  storm  approaches  to  tear  them 
asunder,  it  embraces  more  closely  its  trunk,  and  dies 
only  when  it  dies  :  this  is  the  image  of  the  life  and 
death  of  man  and  woman. 

"  '  Woman  is  not  only  the  complement  of  man,  but 
she  even  possesses,  in  an  eminent  degree,  qualities 
which  have  been  but  imperfectly  imparted  to  him.  To 
what  an  extent  is  she  not  excited  by  her  love  for  her 
husband !  Does  she  calculate  her  sacrifices  ?  Does 
she  ask  herself  the  degree  of  her  attachment  ?  Docs 
she  return  to  measure  the  steps  she  has  taken  ?  Does 
she  look  at  her  feet,  if,  at  each  step,  thorns  have  sprin- 
kled them  with  blood  ?  My  father,  follow  her,  if  you 
can,  in  her  maternal  love.  Find,  if  you  can,  the 
thread  which  leads  into  the  labyrinths  of  her  heart. 

" '  For  nine  months  she  bears  her  child  in  her  womb  ; 
gives  it  birth  in  cruel  pains  ;  wastes  her  youth,  her 
strength,  and  her  health  around  its  cradle  ;  transforms 
her  life  into  its  life  ;  and  when  it  dies,  she  would  die 
too  if  some  invisible  tie  did  not  detain  her  on  earth  — 
it  is  to  love  and  suffer  more. 

"  '  How  sublime  is  her  filial  love  !  We  find  therein 
both  the  mysterious  and  the  sublime.  She  knows  how 
to  charm  the  old  age  of  her  father,  and  make  him  for- 


PAUL   AND    JULIA.  225 

get  his  infirmities.  Should  she  be  compelled  to  mount 
the  scaffold,  the  day  of  her  execution  would  be  to  her 
a  day  of  supreme  happiness. 

"  '  Let  us  follow  her  the  night  after  a  battle.  When 
tne  roar  of  the  cannon  is  dying  away  in  the  bottom  of 
the  plain,  when  the  frightened  sun  has  withdrawn  his 
light,  and  the  shroud  of  darkness  conceals  so  much 
horror,  she  then  directs  her  steps,  torch  in  hand,  to  the 
field  of  battle,  advances  in  the  midst  of  the  blood, 
which  runs  and  crimsons  her  shoes,  across  limbs  torn 
asunder,  shattered  arms,  and  mutilated  corpses,  resem- 
bling the  spirit  of  humanity  who  comes  to  shed  tears 
over  this  frightful  massacre.  Has  a  plaintive  cry  struck 
her  ear  ?  She  approaches  the  exhausted  soldier,  wipes 
the  dust  from  his  visage,  cleanses  his  wounds,  stanches 
the  trickling  blood,  covers  him  with  apparel,  and,  hav- 
ing exhausted  all  the  cares  which  tenderness  suggests 
to  her,  she  by  soft  words  calls  his  heart  to  sentiment 
and  gives  him  courage. 

"  '  Let  us  behold  her  at  the  bed  of  an  agonized  be- 
ing, who  has  no  other  claim  upon  her  affection  and 
attachment  than  that  which  forlornness  and  misfortune 
inspire.  During  his  sickness  she  has  purified  his  ul- 
cers, and  consecrated  her  vigils  to  softening  his  pains ; 
and  when  he  expires,  she  weeps  over  his  dead  body, 
believing  herself  in  widowhood  because  she  can  no 
longer  lavish  on  this  unfortunate  creature  the  love  and 
repulsive  cares  which  the  generosity  of  her  soul  ren- 
dered delightful  to  her. 

"  '  Woman  is  a  mystery.  Her  existence  here  below 
is  but  a  long  and  incessant  martyrdom,  which  she  en- 
dures for  man.  However,  she  complains  not  of  this 


226  PAUL    AND    JTUL1A. 

martyrdom,  for  her  heart  loves  ;  and  where  there  la 
love,  suffering  is  transformed  into  pleasure.' 

" '  My  son,'  replied  my  father,  '  your  language  is 
pitiful.  You  had  %  beautiful  dream  ;  all  that  you  say 
of  woman  is  imaginative.' 

" '  My  father,  I  have  seen  woman  formed  by  the  gos- 
pel. I  have  studied  her  among  the  Christians.  She 
is  the  soul  of  society ;  she  gives  life  to  it.  It  is  she 
who  drops  the  consoling  penny  in  the  hand  of  poverty  ; 
it  is  from  her  lips  that  words  fall  which  soften  the  lot 
of  the  unfortunate.  She  brings  together  the  great  and 
the  low,  the  rich  and  the  poor.  She  ties  the  bonds  of 
society ;  it  is  through  her  that  almost  all  good  is  ef- 
fected. 

" '  And  this  creature,  so  inseparable  from  man,  so 
beautiful,  so  loving,  so  generous,  so  celestial,  and  so 
adorable,  —  should  she  be  the  property  of  man,  and 
not  his  companion  ?  O,  no  ! '  ' 

Paul  interrupted  Isram,  asking  eagerly,  — 

"  Did  not  the  remarkable  doctrine  of  the  gospel  on 
the  rehabitation  of  woman  somewhat  excite  the  admi- 
ration of  your  fa thei  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  young  Greek.  He  remained  cold  and 
inflexible.  His  features  expressed  only  a  feeling  of 
pity  for  my  blindness.  Alas !  prejudice  and  error 
implant  themselves  and  take  root  in  the  heart  as  the 
tares  in  the  fields ;  they  afterwards  develop  them- 
selves, and  leave  no  room  for  truth  and  sentiment. 
However,  he  had  listened  to  me  without  irritation. 
He  then  said  to  me,  — 

"  '  My  son,  if  I  have  listened  to  you  without  impos- 
ing silence  on  your  blasphemy  against  Mahomet,  your 


PAUL    AND   JULIA.  227 

impieties  against  the  religion  of  your  fathers,  and  the 
exposition  of  your  new  and  deplorable  doctrines,  it  is 
that  I  excuse  your  youth,  deplore  your  errors,  and 
mourn  over  your  incredible  blindness.  As  to  the  real- 
ization of  fraternity  among  men,  it  is  an  absurd 
dream.' 

"  '  My  father,  pardon  me  ;  you  are  mistaken.  Jesus 
Christ  has  said,  "  The  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when 
the  true  worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit 
and  in  truth,  for  the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship 
him.  God  is  a  spirit ;  and  they  that  worship  him 
must  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth ; "  which 
worship  Christ  explains  in  the  following  words  :  "  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and 
with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.  This  is 
the  first  and  great  commandment ;  and  the  second  is 
like  unto  it :  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 
On  these  two  commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the 
prophets."  And,  my  father,  if  you  observe  the  actual 
social  phenomena,  and  compare  them  with  the  past, 
you  will  draw  the  conclusion  that  the  time  is  come 
wherein  the  Christian  fraternity  is  to  reign  among 
men.' 

" '  Listen  to  me,  my  son,  and  you  will  be  convinced 
that  the  fraternity  spoken  of  in  the  gospel  is  impossi- 
ble, not  only  among  men,  but  even  among  Christians. 
Are  not  the  prelates  of  the  Romish  church  —  that  gi- 
gantic denomination  of  Christians  —  as  intolerant  and 
egotistic  as  were  our  caliphs  ?  Are  not  their  thoughts, 
words,  and  deeds  the  derision  of  the  life  and  teaching 
of  their  Master  ?  He,  Christ,  was  born  the  poorest 
among  the  children  of  the  people  ;  and  these  prel- 


228  PATJI,    AXD    JULIA. 

ates  are  born  the  richest  among  the  children  of  the 
proud. 

"  '  Christ  was  a  poor  mechanic  ;  for  thirty  years 
the  hammer  and  chisel  hardened  his  hands ;  and 
these  prelates  oppress  the  mechanics ;  their  hands  are 
virgins  of  work  ;  they  have  but  a  look  of  contempt  for 
the  man  of  labor,  and  hold  that  idleness  and  ignorance 
are  a  title  to  greatness. 

"  '  Christ  dressed  himself  like  the  other  children  of 
the  people,  lost  himself  in  their  ranks ;  and  these 
prelates,  his  pretended  apostles,  wear,  to  rank  above 
the  people,  rich  and  floating  tunics  ;  if  sometimes  they 
appear  in  the  crowd,  it  is  but  to  attract  gazers,  to  beg 
admiration,  or  rather  to  solicit  adorations.  Adorned 
with  their  luxuriant  garments,  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  attendants,  —  who  are  in  their  meanness  proud  to 
wear  their  liveries  and  to  be  their  slaves,  —  and  escort- 
ed by  a  double  rank  of  guards  of  honor,  they  isolate 
themselves  from  the  people,  compel  them  to  stay  at  a 
distance,  and  bid  officers  to  order  them  to  kneel  when 
they  are  passing  among  them. 

"  '  Christ  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  thus  frater- 
nizing with  the  poor ;  and  these  prelates  dwell  in  pal- 
aces, wherein,  near  a  splendid  chapel,  they  have  a 
sanctuary  of  voluptuousness,  where,  for  money,  they 
change  a  profane  into  a  sacred  thing,  vice  into  virtue, 
sin  into  laudable  deeds,  and  open  hell  or  heaven,  — 
where  they  forge  irons  to  fetter  the  too  credulous  faith- 
ful, who  believe  them  to  be  gods,  —  where  they  have 
soldiers  to  protect  their  sleep  and  guard  their  heaps  of 
money,  salaries  from  the  sweat  of  the  people,  which 
they  have  stolen  by  working  on  their  ignorance  and 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  229 

superstition,  thus  fraternizing  with  the  enemies  of 
Christ,  of  whom  he  has  said,  "  Ye  know  that  they 
which  are  accounted  to  rule  over  the  Gentiles  exercise 
lordship  over  them,  and  their  great  ones  exercise  au- 
thority upon  them  ;  but  so  shall  it  not  he  among  you  ; 
but  whosoever  will  be  great  among  you  shall  be  your 
minister."  The  prelates  not  only  imitate  the  rulers 
of  the  Gentiles,  but  go  farther :  they  hold  two  scep- 
tres, to  impose  upon  the  people  a  heavier  tyranny  — 
the  one  in  their  palaces,  and  the  other  in  the  churches 
as  lieutenants  of  God. 

"  '  Christ  said,  "  No  man  can  serve  two  masters ;  for 
either  he  will  hate  the  one  and  love  the  other  .  .  . 
Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  mammon."  "  Provide  nei- 
ther gold,  nor  silver,  nor  brass  in  your  purses,  nor 
scrip  for  your  journey,  neither  two  coats,  neither  shoes, 
nor  yet  staves."  "  Take,  therefore,  no  thought  for  the 
morrow."  And  these  prelates  love  silver  and  gold, 
luxury  and  vanity ;  they  heap  immense  riches  and 
hoard  incalculable  treasures.  To  make  money  they 
sell  the  gospel,  even  the  sacraments.  Could  they  sell 
God,  they  would  do  so. 

"  '  Christ  loved  the  poor,  modest,  and  forsaken  peo- 
ple ;  and  these  prelates  are  fond  of  none  but  the  great, 
the  proud,  and  happy  men  of  the  world. 

"  '  Christ  w^s  satisfied  with  the  necessaries  of  life, 
and  partook  with  the  needy  of  the  morsel  of  bread 
that  he  had  softened  and  sanctified  with  his  blessings 
and  tears  ;  and  these  prelates,  in  their  sensuality,  load 
their  tables  with  the  most  exquisite  meals,  and  often 
sit  at  the  tables  of  the  rich. 

"  '  Christ  refused  to  be  a  king,  for  a  bearer  of  scep- 
20 


230  PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

trea  cannot  be  the  brother  of  his  subjects  ;  and  these 
prelates  have  usurped  the  royalty.  One  of  them  went 
so  far  in  his  mockery  of  Christ  as  to  wear  even  a  gold- 
en crown,  which  Christ  would  have  thrown  in  the  mud, 
because  it  would  have  stained  his  brow,  fit  only  to  be 
shaded  with  a  thorny  crown.  These  great  men  of 
Christianity  have  divided  the  portion  of  the  earth  that 
they  have  conquered  into  myriads  of  kingdoms,  to 
overrule  them  according  to  their  caprice. 

" '  Christ  chose  his  apostles  among  obscure  and  sim- 
ple men,  whose  consciences  were  right  and  pure  ;  and 
these  prelates  recruit  themselves  among  the  potent  and 
illustrious,  or,  if  in  the  low  classes,  among  despicable 
men,  whose  souls  have  been  polluted  by  ambition, 
whose  hearts  are  dead  to  the  love  of  their  fellow- 
beings. 

"  '  Christ  fraternized  with  his  apostles  and  disciples. 
He  lived  among  them  as  if  he  had  been  the  least  of 
them.  He  was  humble  and  loving  so  far  as  to  wash 
their  feet ;  and  these  prelates  appear  before  men  like 
divinities.  They  mock  the  humility  of  Christ  in  wash- 
ing, on  Holy  Thursday,  the  feet  of  the  handsomest 
children  of  the  richest  and  most  influential  lords. 

" '  Christ  said,  "  Whosoever  of  you  will  be  the 
chiefest  shall  be  the  servant  of  all ;  "  and  these  prelates 
are  oppressors  and  tyrants  of  the  priests,  to  whom  they 
have  conceded  a  small  royalty,  that  they  be  among 
the  people  the  spies  of  their  policy,  the  apostles  of  their 
sovereignty,  and  the  pillars  of  their  thrones.  How- 
ever, they  do  not  hold  such  commission  from  Christ ; 
but  woe  to  them  if  they  obey  the  Lord  rather  than 
those  who  ought  to  represent  him ! ' 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  231 

"  '  And  you,  my  son,  charge  our  caliphs  and  sultans 
with  ambition,  fanaticism,  and  tyranny  ?  And  you 
hope  that  fraternity  will  be  realized  on  earth  ?  How 
could  it  be  possible,  since  the  great  of  Christianity  are 
a  living  derision  of  the  gospel,  and  of  the  life  of  Jesus 
Christ?' 

"  '  My  father,'  I  answered,  '  what  you  say  is  un- 
fortunately too  true.  The  history  of  the  princes  of  the 
Romish  church  is  rather  scandalous  than  edifying. 
They  have  too  often  forgot  the  maxims  of  their  Mas- 
ter.' 

" '  Say,  rather,'  replied  my  father,  '  that  the  great 
of  Romanism  have  not  been,  and  still  are  not,  the  disci- 
ples and  successors  of  Jesus  Christ,  but  those  of  the 
scribes  and  pharisees  who  persecuted  him.  Should  he 
come  again  on  earth,  he  would  charge  them  as  he  once 
charged  the  scribes  and  pharisees.  He  said,  — 

"  '  "  The  scribes  and  the  pharisees  sit  in  Moses'  seat ; 
all  therefore  whatsoever  they  bid  you  observe,  that  ob- 
serve and  do  ;  but  do  not  ye  after  their  works ;  for 
they  say,  and  do  not." 

" '  My  son,  the  scribes  and  pharisees  of  Christianity 
sit  in  Moses'  seat.  Do  they  observe  and  do  what- 
soever they  bid  you  observe  ?  Are  not  history  and 
society  filled  with  their  scandals,  enormities,  and  im- 
morality of  every  kind  ?  Far  from  marrying,  or  keep- 
ing themselves  chaste  in  celibady,  do  they  not  disturb 
families  in  seducing  unmarried  and  married  women  ? 
Do  they  not  mount  the  steps  of  the  pulpit,  covered 
with  gold,  silver,  silk,  and  embroideries ;  thus  mock- 
ing the  people,  and  teaching  them  that  poverty  is  the 
road  which  will  l?ad  them  to  heaven,  whilst  those  poor 


232  PAUL    AND   JULIA. 

people  have  exhausted  themselves  and  starved  their 
families  to  enrich  them? 

"  '  Jesus  Christ  added,  "  They  [the  scribes  and  the 
pharisees]  bind  heavy  burdens,  and  grievous  to  be 
borne,  and  lay  them  on  men's  shoulders ;  but  they 
themselves  will  not  move  them  with  one  of  their  fin- 
gers." 

"  '  Are  not  the  scribes  and  pharisees  of  Christianity 
as  cowardly,  hypocritical,  selfish,  and  tyrannical  as 
were  their  forefathers  ? 

"  '  Jesus  Christ  added,  "  All  their  works  [of  the 
scribes  and  pharisees]  they  do  to  be  seen  of  men ;  they 
make  broad  their  phylacteries,  and  enlarge  the  borders 
of  their  garments." 

—  "  '  Are  not  the  scribes  and  pharisees  of  Christianity 
more  vain  and  haughty  than  their  ancestors  ?  They 
have  thrones ;  sound  a  trumpet  before  them  when,  by 
ostentation  and  hypocrisy,  they  take  from  their  treas- 
ures a  piece  of  money,  to  give  it  with  haughtiness  to 
the  poor  —  mocking  the  maxim  of  Christ,  "When 
thou  doest  alms,  let  not  thy  left  hand  know  what  thy 
right  hand  doeth."  They  have  always  on  their  lips  the 
letter  of  a  law,  that  is  engraved  neither  in  their  minds 
nor  in  their  hearts.  The  borders  of  their  garments  are 
silk,  silver,  and  gold. 

" '  Christ  added,  the  scribes  and  the  pharisees 
"  love  the  uppermost  -rooms  at  feasts,  and  the  chief 
seats  in  the  synagogues,  and  greetings  in  the  markets, 
and  to  be  called  of  men  rabbi,  rabbi." 

"  '  The  scribes  and  the  pharisees  of  Christianity  bid 
the  people  not  only  to  kneel  and  prostrate  themselves 
before  them,  but  compel  them  to  style  them,  not,  rabbi,  — 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  233 

it  would  be  too  little  honor,  but  —  "  Our  Lords"  They 
have  armor  seals,  and  counterseals,  grand  vicars,  secre- 
taries, chaplains,  canons,  a  multitude  of  satellites,  which 
they  cnoose  among  their  most  assiduous  courtiers,  and 
their  most  slavish  valets  in  the  priesthood. 

"  '  Christ  added,  "  But  be  not  ye  [my  disciples^] 
called  rabbi,  for  one  is  your  Master,  even  Christ,  and 
all  ye  are  brethren." 

"  '  Since  the  scribes  and  the  pharisees  of  Christianity 
insult  Jesus  Christ  so  far  as  to  compel  the  people  to 
style  them  "  Our  Lords"  they  are  enemies  of  their 
brethren,  and  apostates  of  the  gospel,  of  apostleship, 
and  of  the  religion  of  Christ. 

"  '  Christ  added,  [My  disciples,]  "  call  no  man  your 
father  upon  the  earth,  for  one  is  your  Father,  which  is 
in  heaven." 

"  '  They,  the  scribes  and  the  pharisees  of  Christianity, 
claim  from  the  people  the  title  of  their  "  Spiritual  Fa- 
thers "  on  earth.  And  at  what  do  they  aim  ?  To 
solidify  and  perpetuate,  with  their  pretended  and  hypo- 
critical paternity,  the  despotism  they  have  imposed 
upon  them. 

"  '  Christ  added,  "  But  woe  unto  you,  scribes  and 
pharisees,  hypocrites  !  for  you  shut  up  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  against  men ;  for  ye  neither  go  in  yourselves, 
neither  suffer  ye  them  that  are  entering  to  go  in." 

"  '  Have  not  the  scribes  and  pharisees  of  Christian- 
ity, to  serve  their  passions,  and  especially  their  avarice, 
overloaded  with  human  institutions  the  religion  of 
Christ  ?  Have  not  they  entangled  it  with  childish 
observances,  fastidious  practices,  absurd  beliefs,  and 
prescriptions  contrary  to  reason  and  to  the  law  of 
20* 


234  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

nature  ?  Do  they  not  establish,  laws  directly  opposed  to 
the  doctrine  of  Christ  ?  Do  they  not  say  to  Christians, 
You  shall  not  eat  meat  on  Friday,  on  Saturday,  on  the 
eve  of  certain  feasts,  during  all  the  Lent,  etc.  You 
shall  not  eat  on  certain  days  designated  by  us,  though 
you  will  feel  hungry ;  if  you  transgress  our  prescrip- 
tions, you  will  sin  mortally,  and  hell  will  be  your  por- 
tion ;  thus  deriding  Christ's  doctrine,  "  Whatsoever 
thing  from  without  entereth  into  the  man,  it  cannot 
defile  him  ;  because  it  entereth  not  into  his  heart,  but 
into  the  belly,  and  goeth  out  into  the  draught,  purging 
all  meats?"  But  what  say  I?  Give  them  gold,  and 
you  may  transgress  their  prescriptions  without  sin,  and 
without  going  to  hell.  To  their  eyes  gold  is  the  key 
of  heaven. 

"  '  Christ  added,  "  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  phar- 
isees,  hypocrites  !  for  ye  devour  widows'  houses,  and 
for  a  pretence  make  long  prayers  ;  therefore  ye  shall 
receive  the  greater  damnation." 

"  '  Are  not  the  scribes  and  pharisees  of  Christianity 
doing  so  every  day  in  imposing  upon  poor  and  defence- 
less widows  the  most  onerous  exactions,  especially 
masses,  dearly  paid,  for  the  pretended  relief  of  the 
souls  of  their  husbands,  detained,  they  say,  in  pur- 
gatory ? 

"  '  Christ  added,  "  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  phar- 
isees, hypocrites  !  for  ye  compass  sea  and  land  to  make 
one  proselyte,  and  when  he  is  made,  ye  make  him  two- 
fold more  the  child  of  hell  than  yourselves." 

"  '  My  son,  are  not  the  scribes  and  pharisees  of 
Christianity  restless  in  their  efforts  both  to  enlarge 
their  domains,  and  increase  their  proselytes,  —  but  I 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  235 

should  rather  say  their  victims,  —  and  to  spread  all  over 
the  world,  I  do  not  say  the  teaching  of  Christ,  but  his 
gospel  changed  into  a  philosopher's  stone,  to  make 
money  and  satiate  their  selfishness  ?  Do  they  not  com- 
municate to  their  proselytes  the  corruption  of  their 
hearts  ?  Look  at  the  countries  which  they  overrule  ;  all, 
without  one  exception,  are  a  sink  of  immorality.' " 

Whilst  Isram  repeated  hefore  Paul  the  utterance 
of  his  father,  the  young  monk  turned  pale  ;  his  features 
expressed  astonishment,  stupor,  and  consternation. 
He  could  not  hear  without  tremhling  that  which  he 
thought  to  be  blasphemous  and  impious  ;  for  in  his  be- 
lief, the  priests,  especially  the  prelates  of  the  Romish 
church,  were  the  successors  of  Jesus  Christ  himself; 
therefore,  should  they  be  the  most  criminal  among  men, 
they  are  not  liable  before  society.  Notwithstanding, 
the  old  man,  who  was  absorbed  in  his  recollections,  did 
not  notice  it,  and  continued  the  speech  of  his  father. 

"  '  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  pharisees,  hypocrites  ! 
ye  blind  guides,  which  strain  at  a  gnat,  and  swallow  a 
camel.  • 

"  '  My  son,  do  not  the  scribes  and  pharisees  of  Chris- 
tianity deem  sinful  the  omission  of  an  insignificant 
practice,  of  a  foolish  ceremony,  and  violate,  remorseless, 
the  precept  of  fraternal  love  ?  What  do  I  say  ?  Is  it  not 
in  their  belief  a  virtuous  and  glorious  deed  ?  Do  they 
not  sow  among  nations,  families,  and  all  classes  of  so- 
ciety, discord  and  hatred  ?  And  by  what  means  ?  By 
their  intolerance,  espionage,  denunciation,  detractions, 
slanders,  and,  above  all,  by  their  immorality  and  sen- 
suality. 

"  'Christ  added,  "  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and  phari- 


236  PAUL    AND   JULIA. 

sees,  h/pocrites !  for  ye  make  clean  the  outside  of  tne 
cup  and  of  the  platter,  but  within  they  are  full  of  extor- 
tion and  excess.  Thou  blind  pharisee,  cleanse  first  that 
which  is  within  the  cup  and  platter,  that  the  outside  of 
them  may  be  clean  also.  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and 
pharisees,  hypocrites !  for  ye  are  like  unto  whitened 
sepulchres,  which  indeed  appear  beautiful  outward,  but 
are  within  full  of  dead  men's  bones,  and  of  all  unclean- 
ness.  Even  so  ye  also  outwardly  appear  righteous  unto 
men,  but  within  ye  are  full  of  hypocrisy  and  iniquity." 

"  '  My  son,  are  not  these  words  of  Jesus  Christ  the 
true  picture,  or  rather  mirror,  of  the  conscience  of  the 
scribes  and  pharisees  of  Christianity  ?  Have  I  spoken 
truth?' 

"  '  My  father,'  I  answered,  '  you  have  unfortunately 
spoken  but  the  truth.  It  seems  that  the  picture  which 
Jesus  Christ  traced  of  the  perversity  of  the  scribes  and 
the  pharisees  of  his  age  was  but  the  prophecy  of  the 
perversity  of  the  princes  of  Romanism.  The  maledic- 
tions that  fell  heavy  upon  them  from  the  mouth  of 
Jesus  Christ  fall  again  with  all  their  weight  upon  those 
men,  the  prelates,  who,  accepting  the  inheritance  of  the 
scribes  and  of  the  pharisees,  —  monstrous  and  impious 
inheritance  of  hypocrisy,  selfishness,  and  tyranny, — 
became  thereby  their  true  sons.  For  many  centuries 
they  have  fettered  human  liberty.  They  have  always 
stopped,  and  still  stop,  so  far  as  it  is  in  their  power, 
the  progress  of  science,  the  flight  of  genius,  the  im- 
provement of  the  human  mind,  and  the  social  emanci- 
pation. They  always  forbade  men  thinking,  believing, 
feeling,  willing,  and  acting  for  themselves ;  and  such 
prohibition  they  imposed  upon  them  under  pain  of 


£ATTL  AND   JULIA.  237 

mortal  sin  and  hell.     They  at  all  times  kept  the  people 
down  in  ignorance,  superstition,  and  brutishness. 

"  '  Every  one  who  durst  escape  or  affront  their  des- 
potism, who  undertook  to  enlighten  the  people  on  their 
sacrilegious  perversion  of  the  gospel,  became  their 
victim.  They  immolated  him  in  full  day ;  because  po- 
tent enough  to  compel  kings  and  emperors  to  borrow 
from  them  the  sceptre,  they  bore  both  the  crosier  and 
the  sword.  They  were  then  allowed  to  be  vultures  ; 
but  now,  their  wings  being  clipped,  they  are  but  owls. 
They  still  have  sharp  nails,  with  which  they,  in  the 
dark,  tear  into  pieces  and  devour  the  reputation  of  the 
conscientious  men,  who  disapprove  of  and  protest 
against  their  crimes,  their  anti-natural  and  anti-Chris- 
tian teaching. 

"  '  Jesus  Christ  said,  "  Woe  unto  you,  scribes  and 
pharisees,  hypocrites !  because  ye  build  the  tombs  of 
the  prophets,  and  garnish  the  sepulchres  of  the  right- 
eous, and  say,  If  we  had  been  in  the  days  of  our  fathers," 
we  would  not  have  been  partakers  with  them  in  the 
blood  of  the  prophets.  Wherefore  ye  be  witnesses 
unto  yourselves,  that  ye  are  the  children  of  them  which 
killed  the  prophets.  Fill  ye  up  then  the  measure  of 
your  fathers.  Ye  serpents,  ye  generation  of  vipers, 
how  can  ye  escape  the  damnation  of  hell?" 

"  '  This  is  verily  the  duplicity  of  the  great  of  the 
Romish  Catholic  church.  We  see  them  every  day 
shedding  fallacious  and  artful  tears  on  the  victims  of 
truth  whom  their  forefathers  have  immolated.  This 
is  too  their  divine  and  irrevocable  sentence.  Being  as 
perfidious,  poisonous,  and  deadly  as  vipers,  the  damna- 
tion of  hell  is  their  just  punishment. 


238  PATTL  AND   JULIA. 

"  '  Christ  said,  "Wherefore,  behold,  I  send  unto  you 
prophets,  and  wise  men,  and  scribes  :  and  some  of  them 
ye  shall  kill  and  crucify ;  and  some  of  them  shall  ye 
scourge  in  your  synagogues,  and  persecute  them  from 
city  to  city." 

"  '  This  is  the  most  striking  picture  of  the  Inqui- 
sition, which  institution  has  been  the  most  horrible 
among  the  most  horrible  calamities  that  have  desolated 
mankind.  It  has  been  affixed  to  the  wombs  of  nations 
as  a  devouring  fire.  It  wasted  them  so  that  they  were 
perishing  and  dying.  In  Spain  alone,  in  three  hun- 
dred and  thirty-nine  years,  thirty-four  thousand  six 
hundred  and  fifty-eight  conscientious  men  were  burned 
alive  in  the  solemn  auto-da-fe.  Eighteen  thousand  and 
forty-nine  were  burned  in  effigy.  Two  hundred  eighty* 
eight  thousand  two  hundred  and  fourteen  were  con- 
demned to  galleys  or  to  a  perpetual  prison.  More  than 
two  hundred  thousand,  who  were  prisoners,  and  sen- 
tenced to  bear  the  san  benito,  were  condemned  to  an 
endless  dishonor,  themselves  and  their  descendants. 
Five  millions  of  citizens  expatriated  themselves  to 
escape  the  cruelty  of  the  holy  office.  Spain,  that  beau- 
tiful country,  which  counted,  while  inhabited  by  the 
Moors,  thirty-five  millions  of  people,  was  reduced  to 
ten  millions. 

"  '  In  the  greatest  part  of  the  Catholic  countries, 
the  princes  of  the  church  compelled  the  Christians  to 
build  dungeons  for  themselves  with  their  own  hands  ; 
to  put  up  the  woodpiles  that  were  to  be  their  death 
bed ;  to  make  the  wheels  and  other  instruments  that 
were  to  torture  them ;  to  sharpen  the  poniards  and  the 
swords  that  were  to  immolate  them.  During  four  cen- 


PAUL   AND  JTJLIA.  239 

turies,  day  and  night,  Europe  saddened  the  heavens 
with  its  knells  of  death,  its  long  cries  of  distress  and 
agony.  If  now  those  princes  of  the  Romish  church 
cannot  feed  their  eyes  with  the  blood  of  those  whom 
they  call  their  enemies,  they  soften  that  long  fast  in 
launching  against  them  the  steel  of  hatred  and  detrac- 
tion, to  give  them  social  death. 

"  '  Christ  said  too,  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  All  these 
things  shall  come  upon  this  generation.  O  Jerusa- 
lem, Jerusalem,  thou  that  killest  the  prophets,  and 
stonest  them  which  are  sent  unto  thee,  how  often  would 
I  have  gathered  thy  children  together,  even  as  a  hen 
gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would 
not !  Behold,  your  house  is  left  unto  you  desolate.". 

" '  For  many  centuries  Jesus  Christ  repeats  these 
complaints,  threats,  and  prophecies  by  the  mouth  of 
his  true  disciples,  who,  because  they  are  opposed  to  the 
corruption  of  those  who  say,  "We  are  commissioned, 
and  we  alone,  to  preach  the  gospel,"  are  considered  as 
being  the  deadliest  foes  of  Christianity.  "  Are  you  not 
aware,"  said  and  still  say  the  true  disciples  of  Christ  to 
the  princes  of  Romanism  —  "  are  you  not  aware  that 
the  people  see  your  hideous  nudity  ?  that  they  have 
run  the  scalpel  of  observation  through  the  most  secret 
recesses  of  your  iniquities?  that  they  do  not  attend 
your  temples?  that  they  sneer  at  you:  teaching,  and 
now  study  for  themselves  the  true  spirit  of  the  gospel  ? 
that  millions  of  men  have  shaken  off  your  tyrannical 
yoke  ?  and  that  were  not  kings  and  emperors  your 
defenders,  because  you  are  their  political  engines  to 
restrain  masses  which  you  keep  down  in  ignorance, 
superstition,  and  servitude,  the  last  prophecy  of 


240  PAUL   AND   JtTLIA. 

Christ  would  soon  perhaps  have  a  terrible  accomplish- 
ment?'"" 

While  Isram  spoke  thus,  Paul  did  not  interrupt 
him ;  hut  he  looked  sad.  Isram  noticed  it  when  he 
pronounced  the  last  words,  and  asked  him  what  in  his 
account  had  hurt  his  feelings. 

"  Venerable  chief,"  he  answered,  "  when  I  lived  in 
the  world,  I  heard  say  that  the  Romish  prelates,  priests, 
and  monks  had  oppressed  and  still  oppress  the  people. 
Besides,  I  noticed  sometimes  that  their  deeds  were  in 
discordance  with  the  gospel ;  but  I  sighed  over  their 
misdeeds,  and,  according  to  what  I  had  been  taught  in 
my  infancy,  I  defended  them,  and  threw  on  their  igno- 
miny the  mantle  of  filial  piety.  When  I  entered  into 
religion,  I  was  ordered  to  believe  that  whatever  ema- 
nates from  ecclesiastical  superiors  bears  the  seal  of 
divinity ;  that  any  control  of  their  words  and  acts  is 
sacrilegious,  because  it  is  said  in  the  gospel,  '  He  that 
despiseth  you  despiseth  me  ;  and  he  that  despiseth  me 
despiseth  him  that  sent  me ;  '  that  it  pertains  to  them 
to  overrule  humanity  according  to  their  own  will ;  be- 
cause it  has  been  said  to  them,  '  Take  heed  therefore 
unto  yourselves,  and  to  all  the  flock,  over  the  which 
the  Holy  Ghost  hath  made  you  overseers,  to  feed  the 
church  of  God,  which  he  hath  purchased  with  his  own 
blood ; '  that  they  are  shepherds,  and  we  their  sheep ; 
that  whether  they  lead  us  to  such  or  such  pastures, 
shear  us  or  spare  our  wool,  reserve  us  for  the  fold,  or 
destine  us  to  the  slaughter  house,  we  must  be  dumb, 
and  obey  them  like  lambs,  and  without  complaining 
walk  to  death, 

"  This  is,  Isram,  why  I  have  been  saddened  by  hear- 


*v 

JPATTL  AND  JULIA.  241 

Ing  you  censure  the  clergy,  and  also  because  the  ven- 
geance of  God  will  perhaps  pursue  you ;  for  the  minis- 
ters of  Jesus  Christ  are  more  sacred  than  the  holy  ark 
was  among  the  Jews ;  and  still  it  is  related  in  the 
Bible  that  '  Uzzah  put  forth  his  hand  to  the  ark  of 
God  and  took  hold  of  it,  for  the  oxen  shook  it.  And 
the  anger  of  the  Lord  was  kindled  against  Uzzah ;  and 
God  smote  him  there  for  his  error ;  and  there  he  died 
by  the  ark  of  God.'  " 

"  Paul,"  Isram  answered,  "  my  utterance  has  sad- 
dened you;  I  regret  it.  Yet  my  father  and  I  have 
compared,  without  exaggeration,  the  teaching  and  be- 
havior of  the  ministers  of  your  church  with  the  obliga- 
tions imposed  upon  them  by  the  gospel.  They  are 
inviolable,  you  say ;  then  they  are  equal  to  God,  for  he 
alone  is  not  liable  before  the  tribunal  of  humanity. 
To  blemish  them,  when  they  are  traitors  to  their  mis- 
sion, is  to  despise  them ;  and  to  despise  them  is  to 
despise  Christ :  we  should  then  approve  of  the  most 
infamous  treasons  and  the  most  pernicious  apostasy  to 
the  gospel  and  to  Christ.  To  censure  their  words  and 
deeds,  when  they  mock  mankind  and  God,  is  a  profa- 
nation ;  to  disapprove  them  within  one's  self  is  a  sac- 
rilege :  we  must  then  have  eyes  and  not  see,  have  ears 
and  hear  not,  have  a  mind  and  understand  nothing, 
be  endowed  with  reason  and  not  use  this  gift  of  our 
Maker,  —  what  say  I  ?  —  we  must  trample  upon  it  in 
using  it  wrongly  and  absurdly,  in  confounding  good 
and  evil,  truth  and  error.  The  Holy  Ghost,  you  add, 
has  constituted  the  clergy  overrulers  of  the  human 
family  :  we  must,  in  this  case,  resign  oar  manly  dig- 
nity, cast  off  our  personality,  and  substitute  for  our 
21 


*    .*        **- 

-%   *•-' 

242  PAtTI,   AND   JULIA. 

reason  the  reason  of  another.  "We  are  sheep ;  the  bish- 
ops, priests,  and  monks  are  our  shepherds.  Whether 
they  lead  us  to  such  or  such  pastures,  shear  us  or  spare 
our  wool,  reserve  us  for  the  fold,  destine  us  to  the  slaugh- 
ter house,  \ve  must  be  dumb  and  obey  them,  like  lambs 
that,  without  complaining,  walk  to  death :  then  God 
has  said  to  man,  when,  intending  to  crown  his  work  of 
love,  he  placed  him  on  the  earth,  '  We  gave  to  all  be- 
ings a  portion  of  individual  life,  emanating  from  the 
great  whole  of  the  collective  life ;  no  power  is  permit- 
ted to  impose  laws  upon  them  ;  no  hand  is  empowered 
to  master  their  nature  and  change  their  condition  of 
existence  and  development ;  they  ever  and  invariably 
shall  accomplish  their  ends.  But  thou  alone,  man, 
who  art  the  masterpiece  of  our  hands,  —  thou,  whom 
we  made  "in  our  image,  after  our  likeness,"  of  whom 
we  have  said,  "  Let  him  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of 
the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and  over  the  cat- 
tle, and  over  all  the  earth,  and  over  every  creeping 
thing  that  creepeth  upon  the  earth,"  —  thou  alone, 
man,  we  say,  though  endowed  with  the  richest  and 
most  beautiful  portion  of  life,  shalt  lose  that  portion 
of  life,  and  shalt  be  overruled,  enslaved,  and  oppressed 
by  an  outward  power.  We  have  imposed  upon  thee 
prelates,  priests,  and  monks,  vested  with  the  power  to 
say  to  you,  "  Men,  the  senses  and  limbs  of  your  body 
and  the  faculties  of  your  soul  do  not  belong  to  you ; 
they  are  ours.  Therefore  your  eyes  shall  not  read 
such  writings,  shall  not  look  at  such  pictures,  shall  not 
glance  at  such  persons,  shall  not  witness  such  specta- 
cles, shall  feel  but  such  pleasures  ;  you  shall  shut  or 
open  them  according  to  our  will.  Your  ears  shall  not 


,»  PATTI,  AND  JULIA.  243 

listen  to  such  chants  and  harmonious  sounds,  to  such 
conversations  and  discourses.  Your  sense  of  smelling 
shall  enjoy  but  such  perfumes.  The  use  of  your  sense 
of  touch  shall  he  circumscribed  by  limits  assigned  by 
us.  -We  will  overrule  your  taste  to  such  an  extent 
that  you  shall  eat  and  drink  not  when  and  because  you 
are  hungry  and  thirsty,  but  when  and  because  you  will 
be  allowed  by  us.  We  will  determine  the  nature, 
quality,  and  quantity  of  your  aliments  and  drinks,  the 
hours  and  the  duration  of  your  meals.  We  bind  you 
to  all  this  under  pain  of  mortal  sin  and  hell.  As  to 
your  limbs,  they  shall  move  or  rest  according  to  our 
will.  Your  mouths  shall  speak  when  permitted  by  us, 
and  shall  be  silent  when  ordered  by  us ;  they  shall 
utter  words  purified  by  the  test  of  our  will.  Accord- 
ing to  our  commandment  your  feet  shall  walk  or  shall 
be  immovable ;  they  shall  not  carry  you  to  visit  such 
persons,  or  families,  to  assist  at  such  spectacles,  or 
ceremonies,  or  profane  assemblies,  or  religious  meet- 
ings ;  in  short,  your  feet  shall  carry  you  but  where 
it  pleases  us  to  send  you.  We  will  rule  the  motion 
of  your  arms ;  in  the  days  assigned  by  us  they 
shall  lift  up  for  labor  or  shall  fall  again  for  rest.  At 
one  time  we  will  cause  sweat  to  overspread  your  face, 
so  hard  will  be  your  labor ;  and  at  another  time  we 
will  spare  the  expense  of  your  strength.  You  shall 
bring  and  lay  in  our  hands  tne  product  of  your  activ- 
ity :  we  will  divide  it  into  two  parts  —  the  one  shall  be 
ours  ;  it  shall  be  sacred ;  you  shall  call  it  tithe, ;  we  will 
foretake  it :  we  will  adjudge  to  you  the  second  part, 
in  the  use  of  which  you  shall  obey  our  will  and  in- 
structions. As  to  the  faculties  of  your  soul,  your 


244  PAUL  AND  JULIA. 

memory  shall  reject  any  recollection  declared  by  us 
sinful.  Your  intellect  shall  have  but  such  thoughts  ; 
your  hearts  will  be  allowed  such  feelings  and  forbid- 
den such  others.  Your  will  shall  bend  itself  passively 
to  ours.  In  short,  you  shall  abdicate  your  individual- 
ity. Men,  to  speak  briefly,  you  shall  lose  so  com- 
pletely your  souls  in  ours,  that  your  bodies  will  be  but 
machines  obeying  and  serving  our  will."  ' 

"  Paul,  I  beg  leave  to  ask  you  if  to  ascribe  to  God 
such  words  and  such  a  will  is  not  blasphemy.  And 
still,  this  is  the  doctrine  which  the  prelates,  monks, 
and  priests  of  the  Romish  church  hold  and  preach." 

"  Isram,"  Paul  answered,  "  it  is  the  cry  of  my  rea- 
son ;  but  I  am  not  allowed,  or  at  least  am  afraid,  to 
use  it  freely.  It  would  be  a  great  crime  for  me ;  the 
penalty  would  be  endless  punishment." 

On  this  answer  of  Paul  Isram  appeared  afflicted ;  he 
mourned  over  the  tomb  of  an  endeared  soul  lying, 
dead  to  light,  in  the  coffin  of  the  sacerdotal  and  mona- 
chal slavery,  and  buried  in  the  deep  grave  of  prejudice. 
Fearing  to  have  hurt  the  feelings  of  Paul,  he  said  to 
him, — 

"  Pardon,  young  Greek,  if,  relating  the  conversation 
*hat  I  had  with  my  father,  and  the  reflections  of  my 
own  which  I  have  imparted  to  you,  I  have  injured 
your  belief,  and  withal  disturbed  your  conscience.  I 
will  henceforth  avoid  speaking  of  your  church." 

"  Isram,"  Paul  responded,  "  though  I  do  not  think 
as  you  do,  I  am  aware  of  your  intentions  and  of  your 
good  will  towards  me." 

Isram  continued  :  — 

«*  But  I  must  not  lose  sight  of  my  narrative.     I  re- 


PATJL    AXD   JULIA.  245 

sume  the  thread  of  my  conversation  with  my  father. 
He  said  to  me,  — 

"  '  My  son,  sinc^  you  acknowledge  that  in  the  Romish 
church,  which  is  the  most  numerous  among  Christians, 
the  prelates,  even  the  priests  and  monks,  are  not  better 
than  are  our  calrahs  and  sultans,  tell  me  how  the  real- 
ization of  the  Christian  frater  lity  is  possible.' 

"  '  My  father,'  I  answered,  '  the  time  is  come  wherein 
the  disciples  of  Christ  will  shake  off  the  yoke  of  all 
these  tyrants  of  the  Romish  church,  —  that  pretended 
only  true  church  of  Christ, — not  only  of  the  prelates, 
priests,  and  monks,  but  even  of  kings  and  emperors 
who  support  them.  Ignorance,  fanaticism,  and  super- 
stition will  melt  before  the  sun  of  the  emancipation  of 
intellect,  of  the  flight  of  genius,  of  the  gigantic  devel- 
opment of  the  human  mind,  and  of  social  progress  ; 
the  acknowledgment  of  freedom  of  thought  in  politics, 
science,  doctrine,  and  religion  spreads  its  beams  every 
where,  and  will  shortly  overflow  the  universe ;  sceptres 
are  broken  into  dust ;  thrones  fall  to  the  earth  ;  their 
fragments  are  used  for  bonfires,  and  the  wind  carries 
their  ashes  into  the  air ;  of  them  remains  nothing  but 
mournful  and  hateful  recollections.  Even  the  sword 
of  the  Goliath  of  the  army  hostile  to  men  and  God, 
the  pope,  is  dull.  In  vain  he  threatens  and  handles 
it ;  he  does  not  dare  strike,  for  its  blow  would  not 
wound ;  ignorance  alone  sharpened  once  its  point  and 
blade  ;  in  vain  he  defies  and  mocks  the  combatants  of 
the  gospel,  of  the  holy  cause  of  mankind  and  of  God ; 
the  Lord  will  commission  a  David,  who  will  stone  and 
cast  him  down,  will  behead  him,  will  triumphantly 
bring  his  head  to  the  holy  army,  and  will  leave  his 
21* 


246  PAUL   AXD   JTTLIA. 

monstrous  corpse  lying  in  the  mire  of  his  crimes,  and 
the  scalpel  of  history  will  dissect  his  vital  elements. 
Of  him  shall  remain  but  the  pestilential  odor  of  the 
numberless  crimes  against  mankind  and  God  which  he 
has  heaped  for  so  many  centuries.  The  pope  tries 
again  to  appear  before  men  as  reaching  from  earth  to 
heaven ;  but  he  is  now  merely  the  great  image  that 
appeared  to  Nebuchadnezzar.  His  head  is  of  fine 
gold ;  his  breast  and  his  arms  are  of  silver,  his  belly 
and  his  thighs  of  brass,  his  legs  of  iron,  but  his  feet 
part  of  iron  and  part  of  clay.  We  shall  see  that  a 
stone  will  shortly  be  cut  out  of  the  mountain  without 
hands,  and  will  smite  the  image  upon  his  feet,  that  are 
of  iron  and  clay,  and  will  break  them  to  pieces.  Then 
will  the  iron,  the  clay,  the  brass,  the  silver,  and  the 
gold  be  broken  to  pieces  together,  and  will  become 
like  the  chaff  of  the  summer  threshing  floor  ;  and  the 
wind  will  carry  them  away,  that  no  place  may  be  found 
for  them ;  and  the  stone  that  shall  have  smote  the 
image  will  become  a  great  mountain,  and  will  fill  the 
whole  earth.  What  will  this  stone  be  ?  Christ. 
What  will  be  this  mountain,  filling  the  world  ?  The 
reign  of  Christian  fraternity. 

*' '  My  father,  is  not  the  building  of  tyranny  shaken 
in  all  its  frames  ?  Are  not  its  crashings  resounding 
to  the  farthest  limits  of  the  globe  ?  Behold !  And 
you  will  see  entire  walls  disunited  and  moving.  Hark ! 
Do  you  not  hear  how,  in  their  fall,  they  thunder  to 
the  ears  and  shake  the  whole  building  ?  Light  and 
darkness,  knowledge  and  ignorance,  true  worship  and 
superstition,  oppressors  and  oppressed  fight  in  deadly 
strife.  God  blesses  the  holy  cause ;  tyranny  is  ago- 


PAtTL    AND    JULIA.  247 

uizing ;  the  hour  will  shortly  come  when  the  true  wor- 
shipper shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth, 
when  men  shall  observe  this  maxim  of  Christ,  "  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and 
•with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind:  this  is 
the  first  and  great  commandment.  And  the  second  is 
like  unto  it :  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 
On  these  two  commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the 
prophets."  In  one  word,  the  hour  will  shortly  come 
when  all  the  countries  of  the  world  will  rest  their  con- 
stitutions on  this  divine  base  —  all  men  are  brethren  ; 
when  all  nations  will  consider  themselves  as  provinces 
of  the  universal  nation  -  -  mankind ;  and  will  be  for- 
ever tied  to  each  other  by  this  Christian  constitution, 
as  short  as  it  is  perfect  and  divine  —  all  men  are 
brethren.  Then  the  seed  of  mustard,  spoken  of  by 
Christ,  will  have  grown,  and,  though  the  least  of  all 
seeds,  will  have  become  a  tree,  so  that  the  birds  of  the 
air  come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  thereof ;  that  is, 
the  gospel  will  have  grown  and  become  a  tree,  so  that 
the  whole  human  family  shall  be  fraternally  united  and 
sheltered  under  its  foliage  ;  and  still  it  was  the  least 
of  all  doctrinal  seeds;  it  had  been  sown  in  a  narrow 
land  of  the  earth,  and  had  in  growing  been  for  centu- 
ries overloaded  with  the  dry  and  dead  branches  of  hu- 
man institutions,  and  with  the  parasite  plants  of  the 
prelates,  priests,  and  monks  united  to  absorb  its  nour- 
ishment. 

" '  And  in  what  manner  has  the  tree  of  the  gospel 
grown  and  become  tall,  large,  and  immense,  so  that  it 
shelters  all  the  members  of  the  human  family  ?  By  cut> 
ting  off  from  the  trunk  the  prelates,  monks,  and  priests, 


248  PAUL   AND   JUXIA. 

and  all  the  sacerdotal  inventions,  which  are  injurious 
to  the  tree  either  by  absorbing  the  food  of  the  useful 
branches  or  hindering  them  from  enlarging.' 

"  '  My  son,  should  your  language  be  true, —  should 
Islamism  be  the  misfortune  of  society,  —  you  ought 
not  to  be  a  Christian ;  a  son  is  never  allowed  to  aban- 
don the  religion  of  his  ancestors.' 

"  '  My  father,  were  our  forefathers  right  in  adopting 
the  new  religion  established  by  Mahomet  ?  ' 

"  '  Certainly,  because  Mahomet  was  commissioned 
by  God  to  establish  it.' 

"  '  My  father,  I  believe  that  Jesus  Christ,  but  not 
Mahomet,  held  from  God  his  mission.  Islamism,  with 
me,  is  error ;  Christianity  is  truth  :  I  embrace  it.' 

"  '  At  least,  save  the  appearances ;  act  as  if  you  were 
a  disciple  of  the  prophet ;  be  present  in  the  assemblies 
of  believers.' 

"  '  I  owe  myself  to  my  conviction.  On  my  part,  it 
would  be  cowardice.' 

" '  Then  you  renounce  honors  ?  * 

"  «  Yes,  my  father.' 

"  '  The  good  will  and  favor  of  the  emperor  ?  ' 

"  '  Yes,  my  father ;  they  would  cost  me  too  much,' 

"  '  You  consent  to  quit  your  country  ?  ' 

"  '  Yes,  if  it  is  necessary.' 

"  '  Do  you  forget  that  death  is  the  penalty  of  an. 
apostate  ? ' 

"  « I  know  it.' 

"  '  And  you  brave  it  ? ' 

"  '  A  Christian  does  not  fear  death.  He  abhors 
tyranny,  disdains  despots,  and  holds  life  dear  only 
when  he  enjoys  liberty.' 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  249 

"  '  Your  doctrine  does  not  forbid  you  to  love  your 
father,  and  obey  him?  ' 

"  '  On  the  contrary,  it  directs  me  to  do  so.' 

"  '  Very  well.  I  then  command  you,  in  the  name 
of  my  paternal  authority,  to  renounce  Christianity,  and 
to  become  again  a  disciple  of  the  prophet.' 

"  '  My  father,  you  are  not  allowed  by  your  paternal 
rights  to  impose  upon  me  a  religious  conviction.' 

"  'And  you  resist  ? ' 

"  '  It  is  my  duty.' 

"  '  And  you  do  not  dread  my  wrath  ?  And  you  defy 
my  vengeance  ? ' 

"  '  My  father,  were  I  permitted  to  obey  your  will,  I 
would  yield  to  filial  love,  but  not  to  your  vengeance.' 

"  '  From  this  hour  you  are  no  longer  my  son.  You 
are  in  my  eyes  less  than  a  slave.  I  will  not  reveal 
your  apostasy  to  the  emperor,  for  my  name  would  be 
sullied  if  your  head  rolled  under  the  cimeter.  But  I 
know  what  to  do.' 

"  Young  Greek,  my  father  called  then  his  guard. 
They  chained  and  dragged  me  to  the  dungeon  where 
the  rebel  slaves  were  imprisoned.  The  next  day,  sol- 
diers entered,  and  demanded  to  spaak  with  my  father. 
They  came  from  the  emperor  to  make  inquiries  about 
my  apostasy,  of  which  Borne  one  had  given  him  intel- 
ligence. It  was  said  to  me  that  he  was  exasperated, 
because  I  was  one  of  his  favorites,  and  that  he  intended 
to  execute  upon  me  an  exemplary  and  cruel  vengeance. 
I  know  not  if  it  was  by  the  order  of  my  father,  — 
though  I  suspect  it,  —  but  during  the  following  night, 
I  was  released  from  my  chains,  led  to  a  ship  bound  for 
Anapa,  end  embarked. 


250  PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

"  I  spent  some  time  in  Anapa,  but  was  finally  com 
pelled  to  leave  the  city,  being  pursued  even  there  by 
the  wrath  of  the  emperor,  who  wished  to  have  me  de- 
livered into  his  hands.  Having  met  in  the  wilderness 
with  a  colony  of  the  tribe  of  Ossetes,  who  were  at 
war  with  another  colony,  they  took  me  into  their  ranks, 
chose  me  for  their  chief,  and  defeated  their  enemies. 
Since  I  have  been  among  them,  I  have  never  heard  of 
my  father,  though  I  have  inquired  often  about  him." 

"  Isram,"  asked  Paul,  "  why  did  you  remain  on 
these  mountains  ?  " 

"  From  gratitude  for  the  tribe,"  Isram  responded, 
"  and  chiefly  to  moralize  and  civilize  them.  I  have 
married,  lived  long  years,  whitened,  and  shall  die 
among  them.  Now,  young  Greek,  you  know  what 
you  desired  to  know  of  the  history  of  my  long  life." 

"  Venerable  chief,"  Paul  said,  "  of  what  tyranny 
you  have  been  the  victim !  For  truth  you  have  re- 
nounced the  court  of  the  emperor  ;  quitted  your  coun- 
try, your  father ;  you  have  faced  death,  and  passed 
your  life  on  these  mountains,  far  from  civilized  Europe, 
in  the  midst  of  a  savage  people.  O,  you  have  suffered 
much  more  than  I !  Your  example  gives  me  courage. 
I  know  now  that  truth  has  no  country  on  earth  ;  that 
a  just  man  is  always  persecuted  ;  that  the  thorns  which 
crowned  Christ  prick  the  heart  of  his  disciples.  I  un- 
derstand that  for  them  this  prophecy  is  realized  :  '  I  am 

come  to  send  fire  on  the  earth The  father  shall 

be  divided  against  the  son,  and  the  son  against  the 
father.'  Isram,  though  fear  hinders  me  from  partak- 
ing of  your  religious  belief,  —  which  still  would  answer 
so  well  the  dictates  of  my  reason,  and  the  propensitie* 


PAUL   AND    JULIA.  251 

of  my  heart,  —  I  must  admire  the  amelioration  you 
have  effected  among  the  Ossetes.  However,  what 
astonishes  me  is,  that  they  have  not  yet  been  Chris- 
tianized." 

"  Young  Greek,"  Isram  answered,  "  it  is  but  slowly 
that  people  change  their  habits ;  it  is  still  more  slowly 
they  quit  the  religion  they  have  been  taught  in  their 
infancy.  Ah  !  if  the  innumerable  Romish  priesthood, 
instead  of  preaching  an  anti-Christian,  anti-human,  and 
anti-social  gospel,  would  preach,  in  word  and  example, 
the  doctrine  of  Christ ;  if  the  more  enlightened  and 
more  true  apostles  of  the  gospel,  and  the  preachers  of 
the  true  word  of  Christ,  limited  not  their  zeal ;  if  they 
were  convinced  that  the  Christian  religion  ought  not 
to  be  encircled  in  some  countries ;  if  they  compre- 
hended, theoretically  and  practically,  that  the  will  of 
Christ  is,  that  all  men  be  brothers ;  if,  as  Christ  did, 
they  carried  in  their  wombs,  with  a  boundless  love,  all 
the  members  of  the  human  family  to  give  them  a  spiritual 
birth,  —  the  light  of  the  gospel  would  shine  to  igno- 
rant and  barbarous  nations,  and  soon  the  entire  uni- 
verse woiild  rise  up,  would  emerge  from  darkness,  and 
would  rejoice  in  this  light ;  would  march  to  knowledge, 
to  civilization,  to  virtue,  and  to  happiness.  The  word  of 
Christ  would  be  the  guaranty  of  their  success.  He 
said  to  his  apostles,  '  Go  ye  therefore  and  teach  all 
nations,  baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and 
of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.' " 

These  last  words  made  a  deep  impression  upon  Paul. 
The  following  days  he  spent  in  solitude,  for  the  strug- 
gle was  renewed  in  his  mind  and  in  his  heart. 


252 


FAUL    AND   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


CHASE. PAULS    RESOLUTION. 

NE  morning  an  extraordi- 
nary event  happened  in  the 
valley.  Hunters  coming 
from  the  mountains  car- 
ried with  shouts  of  triumph 
a  monstrous  bear ;  an  ar- 
row was  buried  in  his 
flank.  The  echoes  of  the  valley  re- 
peated, "  Praise  and  honor  to  Julia 
and  Paul !  She  is  as  beautiful  as  flow- 
ers, and  as  valiant  as  the  chief  of  our 
warriors !  He  is  the  handsomest 
among  the  youths  of  the  valley,  and 
though  a  stranger,  the  boldest  among 
the  hunters  !  She  broke  his  chains, 
and  he  preserved  her  life  !  He  is 
worthy  of  Julia,  worthy  of  Isram, 
worthy  of  the  Ossetes ;  let  him  be  assistant  of  Isram 
in  the  government  of  the  tribe." 

The  shepherds  left  their  flocks,  the  laborers  the 
fields,  the  Ossetines  deserted  the  cottages ;  all  rushed 
and  united  their  merry  songs  and  shouts  of  joy  to  those 
of  the  hunters.  When  they  arrived  at  the  cottage  of 
Isram,  they  presented  to  him  the  monstrous  bear,  say- 
ing, that  the  arrow  plunged  in  his  flank  had  sprung 
from  the  bow  of  Julia ;  that  the  animal  wounded  had 


PAUL   AND    JULIA.  253 

in  his  fury  seized,  thrown  down,  and  pressed  Julia 
with  his  strong  paws ;  that  Paul,  seeing  her  danger,  ran, 
attacked  the  bear,  rescued  Julia,  pierced  and  killed 
him  with  a  couteau  de  chasse.  "  He  is  worthy  of  Julia, 
worthy  of  you,  worthy  of  the  Ossetes,"  they  exclaimed  ; 
"  let  him  be  your  assistant  in  the  government  of  the 
tribe." 

Isram  thanked  Paul,  who,  alas  !  though  happy  in 
having  preserved  the  life  of  Julia,  concealed  under  his 
smile  the  deepest  agitation  in  his  mind  and  the  deep- 
est sorrow  in  his  heart.  He  kissed  Julia  with  a  paternal 
pride  and  affection,  and  expressed  to  the  tribe  his  sen- 
timents of  gratitude. 

The  heart  of  Isram  was  filled  with  joy.  He  said 
to  himself,  "  Paul  loves  Julia,  Julia  loves  Paul.  The 
tribe  cherish  him,  and  gave  him  to  me  to  help  my  old 
age.  My  son  is  dead ;  he  will  replace  him  at  my  fire- 
side, and  in  my  heart.  He  will  be  the  prop  of  my  old 
age  ;  will  receive  my  last  breath,  and  close  my  eyes. 
I  will  depart  from  this  life  without  anxiety,  for  I  shall 
not  leave  my  dear  Julia  alone ;  he  will  make  her  happy." 
Alas  !  he  was  mistaken.  He  found  Julia  alone  weep- 
ing bitterly.  He  asked  her  what  was  the  cause  of  her 
tears  ;  but  her  only  answer  was,  "  I  shall  never  more  live 
one  happy  day."  He  then  went  to  Paul,  who  thought- 
fully walked  in  the  orchard  back  of  the  cottage. 

"  Paul,  not  only  your  wishes  will  be  satisfied,  your 
love  crowned,  but  you  are  called  by  the  people  to  par- 
take with  me  in  the  government  of  the  tribe.  I  con- 
gratulate you." 

»  Alas ! " 

•'  What,  Paul,  and  you  axe  not  happy  ?  " 
22 


254  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

Paul  sighed. 

"  Speak,  Paul." 

"  I  am  the  unhappiest  man  on  earth." 

"  I  am  astonished  at  what  you  say.  Why  say  you 
that  you  are  the  unhappiest  man  on  earth  ?  " 

"  Because  I  may  not  remain  on  these  mountains,  de- 
vote myself  to  the  tribe,  be  your  son,  live  and  die  with 
Julia,  the  best  beloved  of  my  heart." 

"  You  may  not !     And  why  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  permitted  it." 

"  By  your  conscience  ?  " 

"  Yes,  venerable  chief." 

•  "  You  believe  then  that  you  would  sin  against  God, 
do  you  ? " 

"Yes." 

"  Paul,  you  know  my  good  will  and  affection  for 
you ;  explain  without  restraint  for  what  reasons  you 
think  so." 

"  Venerable  chief,  while  I  am  on  these  mountains, 
I  heap  every  day  sin  upon  sin." 

"  What  are  you  doing  wrong?  " 

''  I  am  forbidden  to  love  Julia,  and  in  spite  of  my 
will  I  yield  to  love.  I  am  forbidden  to  love  my  family, 
and  I  love  you  as  if  you  were  my  father.  God  calls 
me  to  the  religious  life,  and  I  live  far  from  the  convent. 
I  have  vowed  celibacy,  and  I  think  of  marriage.  I 
have  sworn  obedience  to  my  superiors,  and  I  do  not 
live  under  their  direction.  I  owe  to  the  ministers  of 
Jesus  Christ  the  same  respect  I  owe  to  God,  and  I  have 
listened  to  your  blasphemies  against  them.  I  am 
bound  to  believe  their  record  as  the  word  of  God  him- 
self, and  I  have  not  closed  my  ears  to  your  attacks 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  255 

against  their  teaching.  I  am  obliged  to  consider  you 
as  a  heathen  and  a  publican,  and  I  live  under  the  same 
roof.  I  am  compelled  by  the  laws  of  my  holy  church 
to  kill  you,  since  you  are  a  heretic,  an  enemy  of  the 
church  of  Christ  and  of  his  gospel  ;  and  far  from  curs- 
ing you,  my  heart  feels  a  boundless  gratitude  and  de- 
votedness.  You  contribute  to  the  prosperity  of  the  Os- 
setes  tribe,  but  ck>  nothing  for  their  souls,  for  you  are 
not  in  the  pale  of  the  church  of  Christ,  wherein  you 
could  be  saved,  and  would  save  your  people.  Besides, 
with  you  I  forget  that  God  calls  me  to  work  out  the 
salvation  of  souls.  Therefore  my  sins  exceed  in  num- 
ber the  hairs  of  my  head ;  I  feel  the  weight  of  my 
prevarications  upon  my  conscience.  I  must  return  to 
Naples,  kneel  before  my  spiritual  father,  confess  these 
sins,  receive  the  holy  absolution  that  will  cleanse  my 
soul,  and  thus  enter  again  into  my  divine  calling.  These 
are,  venerable  chief,  the  sins  which  I  have  committed 
on  these  mountains  ;  these  are  the  reasons  which 
oblige  me  to  leave  the  tribe ;  to  bid  you,  my  endeared 
father,  and  Julia,  the  too  beloved  of  my  heart,  an  eter- 
nal adieu." 

"  Dear  Paul,  does  your  reason  inform  you  that  you 
are  guilty  of  these  pretended  sins  and  obligations  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  But  I  must  stifle  the  voice  of  my 
reason,  believe  and  obey  exclusively  and  blindly  the 
teaching  of  the  priests." 

"  When  I  recollect  the  history  of  your  past  life,  I 
*m  not  astonished  at  it.  I  will  not  attempt  to  show 
you  how  far  tte  prejudices  of  your  early  education 
have  led  you  in  the  labyrinth  of  error,  for  I  am  con- 
vinced that,  unfortunately  for  you,  years  and  your  own 


25G  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

experience  will  enlighten  you.  I  will  not  attempt  to 
represent  to  you  the  affliction  of  Julia,  whose  despair 
will  break  down  the  life  of  her  old  grandfather.  Alas  ! 
your  prejudices  have  resisted  filial  love;  every  other 
love  they  can  withstand.  Yet  let  me  say  to  you,  that  all 
that  your  mother  spoke  to  you  is  true ;  that  you  have 
been  misled,  deceived,  and  blinded  by  the  priests  ; 
that,  so  far  as  I  know  you,  I  must  judge  that  after  a 
while  you  will  see  light ;  but  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  too 
late  for  your  happiness.  Keep  well  in  your  mind  my 
last  words,  for  they  are  those  of  an  old  man  who  has 
studied  the  priests,  Romanism,  the  gospel,  society,  the 
human  mind,  and  heart. 

"  Since  you  believe  that  it  is  to  you  an  obligation 
of  conscience  to  leave  us,  and  to  return  to  Naples,  re- 
ceive from  my  hands  the  means  to  go  there.  I  will 
give  you  a  guide  who  shall  accompany  you  to  Anapa. 
If  ever,  when  light  shines  into  your  eyes,  your  heart 
wants  to  live  on  these  mountains,  come  again  to  share 
the  fireside  of  Julia,  and  of  her  old  grandfather." 

"  Isram,  your  words  are  a  spear  transpiercing  my 
heart.  Why  am  I  not  allowed  to  yield  to  what  I  feel 
for  your  tribe,  and  chiefly  for  you  and  my  too  dear 
Julia?" 

"  I  deplore  your  prejudices,  but  I  know  and  prize 
your  sentiments.  My  best  wishes  will  accompany 
you." 

"  But  can  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  Knowing  as  I  do  the  perplexity  of  your  mind,  1 
not  only  forgive  you,  but  indulge  you  in  your  resolu- 
tion." 

"  Will  Julia  forgive  me  ?  " 


PAUL   AKD   JULIA.  257 

"  Certainly  ;  and  what  you  shall  suffer  from  the 
priests  will  increase  her  sufferings  and  love." 

"  Good  Heavens  !  " 

"  To  spare  to  her  the  bitterness  of  the  separation,  I 
will  give  her  the  intelligence  of  your  departure  only  in 
a  few  days,  and  present  to  her  your  farewell." 

"  God  !  how  unhappy  I  must  he  on  earth  !  " 

Isram  called  for  a  guide,  and  soon  after  he  was  bless- 
ing with  a  trembling  voice  Paul,  who,  pale,  in  extreme 
agitation,  and  shedding  bitter  tears,  was  thanking 
him,  bidding  him  adieu,  and  whispering  these  words : 
*'Poor,  and  too  beloved  Julia  '  " 
22* 


258 


PAUL   AND   JULIA. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 


DISAPPOINTMENT     OF     THE     TRIBE     OF     OSSETES     BY 
PAUL'S    DEPARTURE. 

[HE  tribe  rejoiced.  The 
old  men  said  to  each  other, 
"  We  now  can  live  our  last 
days,  and  die  in  peace ; 
our  sons  and  grandsons 
will  see  happy  days  ;  they 
will  have  for  governor  a 
chief  worthy  of  Isram."  The  young 
men  repeated  the  praises  of  Paul,  add- 
ing, "  He  is  the  boldest  of  the  hunters  ; 
he  will  be  our  chief  in  our  chases. 
He  is  valiant ;  he  will  lead  us  to  the 
field  of  battle,  when  we  shall  fight  to 
defend  our  cottages.  He  is  industri- 
ous ;  he  will  guide  us  in  the  culture 
of  our  lands.  He  is  wise  ;  he  will 
bring  peace,  union,  and  happiness 
among  families,  and  to  our  firesides.  Julia  loves  him  ; 
he  will  be  the  son  of  our  beloved  governor."  The 
young  Ossetines  whispered,  "  He  loves  Julia,  and  he 
is  the  handsomest  of  the  young  men  of  the  valley ; 
Julia  will  be  proud  of  him,  and  happy." 

The  old  men  had  already  assigned  the  day  of  the  in- 
stallation of  Paul  in  his  office  of  assistant  of  Isram.  It 
was  to  be  a  fete  for  the  tribe,  and  great  rejoicings  were 


PAUL   AXD   JULIA.  259 

to  take  place.  The  people,  who  noticed  that  Paul 
accompanied  Isram  no  more  in  his  visits  to  families, 
inquired  of  each  other  where  he  was ;  but  nobody 
knew.  They  asked  Isram,  and  he  did  not  answer 
plainly.  Many  days  had  passed  away,  and  Paul  was 
net  seen  in  the  valley.  Then  Isram  gave  them  the  in- 
telligence of  his  departure.  To  praises  and  affection 
succeeded  a  general  indignation  against  Paul.  All 
vociferated  against  him  words  of  malediction.  Never- 
theless, when  Isram  informed  them  that  he  had  ap- 
proved him  in  his  resolution  of  leaving  the  valley ; 
that,  in  spite  of  his  devotedness  to  the  tribe,  he  had 
been  obliged  to  obey  imperious  circumstances  calling 
him  to  Naples ;  and  that  he  had  blessed  him  before 
his  departure,  they  changed  their  maledictions  into 
benedictions.  As  to  Julia,  when  Isram,  in  a  tone  of 
the  deepest  affliction,  presented  to  her  the  farewell  of 
Paul,  she,  with  the  accent  of  despair,  and  with  trem- 
bling lips,  said,  "  I  had  read  in  his  looks  that  I  should 
never  more  live  a  happy  day.  My  life  is  cut  down  as 
a  plant  by  the  scythe." 


26? 


PAUL   AND   JUT.TA. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 


PAUL  IN  NAPLES.  HE  CALLS  UPON  THE  REVEB- 

END  FATHER  FRANCIS. 

WO  months  after,  Paul  was 
knocking  at  the  door  of 
his  monastery  in   Naples. 
"  What     will     you  ?  " 
asked    the    porter. 

"  To   be   introduced  to 
the  reverend  father  supe- 
rior," he  answered. 
"Who  are  you?" 
"  Brother     Paul    Basi- 
los." 

"  You  are  Brother  Paul 
Basilos ;   but  you  do  not 
wear  the  religious  habit." 
"  It  matters  not." 
"  Probably  you  are  mis- 
You  do  not  belong  to  our  convent." 
"  I  certainly  am  not  mistaken." 
"  I  have  never  heard  of  a  monk  of  our  order  named 
Brother  Paul  Basilos." 

"  I  left  the  convent  a  long  time  ago." 
"  To  go  where  ?  " 

"  To  Russia,  with  Father  Ignatius." 
"  I  have  never  heard  of  Father  Ignatius,  of  whom 
you  speak." 


taken. 


PAUL   AND   JTTtTA.  261 

"  I  am  surprised  at  what  you  say." 

"  Who  sent  you  there?  " 

"  The  reverend  father  superior." 

"  How  long  since  you  left  this  convent  ?  " 

"  Several  years." 

"  I  understand  now  why  I  am  not  acquainted  with 
you,  and  have  not  heard  of  Father  Ignatius.  I  lived 
nt  that  time  in  another  convent  of  our  order.  You 
will  find  a  great  change  in  the  persons  of  the  convent. 
The  reverend  father  superior  died,  and  has  been  re- 
placed by  Reverend  Father  Francis." 

"  Reverend  Father  Francis  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Please  let  him  know  that  I  wish  to  see  him." 

"  I  was  just  going  to  his  apartment  to  call  for  him. 
"Wait  a  moment  in  the  parlor." 

"  I  will." 

While  Paul  was  alone  in  that  hall,  which  recalled 
to  his  mind  so  many  thoughts,  bitter  recollections  and 
painful  reflections  heaved  upon  his  soul.  He  remem- 
bered his  mother  falling  on  the  pavement  which  was 
under  his  eyes  ;  all  his  past  sufferings  in  the  convent ; 
the  church  which  had  been  the  cradle  of  his  love ;  the 
streets  and  squares  of  the  city  wherein  he  looked  for 
Julia ;  and  the  country  around  Naples,  which  he  had 
explored  so  often  in  his  solitary  rambles.  He  thought 
of  his  departure  from  the  convent ;  of  his  mother  fall- 
ing, fainting,  and  perhaps  dying  on  the  quay  of  Con- 
stantinople ;  of  his  shipwreck ;  of  the  long  year  spent 
among  barbarous  people,  having  charge  of  their  flocks  ; 
of  his  captivity  ;  chiefly  of  the  tribe  of  the  Ossetes ;  of 
his  deliverance,  of  Isram,  of  Julia,  and  of  the  tinie  spent 


262  PAtri,  AND  JtriiA. 

at  their  fireside;  of  his  departure,  with  its  circum- 
stances. He  saw,  before  his  eyes,  the  image  of  Julia, 
dying  in  her  sorrow  and  despair.  His  soul  was  ab- 
sorbed and  agitated  by  these  thoughts,  recollections, 
and  reflections,  when  Father  Francis  walked  into  the 
parlor,  embraced  him,  and,  after  the  usual  salutations 
of  the  monks,  led  him  to  his  apartment. 

Paul  expressed  the  pleasure  he  felt  to  see  him  again, 
and  then  recounted  to  him  all  his  adventures.  Father 
Francis  listened  to  him  with  the  greatest  attention ; 
and  when  Paul  ceased  to  speak,  he  said  to  him, — 

"  Brother  Paul,  I  congratulate  you  for  the  marks  of 
predilection  with  which  God,  in  his  mercy,  has  favored 
you.  He  has  strengthened  you  against  your  mother ; 
preserved  you  from  the  waves,  especially  from  the  im- 
pious doctrines  of  the  chief  of  the  Ossetes'  tribe,  and 
from  the  seductions  of  the  woman  —  that  viper  which 
has  won  your  heart.  But,  alas  !  how  innumerable  have 
been  your  offences  against  God !  how  right  you  were 
in  saying  to  Isram,  that  you  heaped  in  his  house  sins 
upon  sins  !  Fall,  then,  to  my  feet,  that  I  may  give  you 
the  holy  absolution." 

Paul  having  confessed  his  sins  and  received  absolu- 
tion, Father  Francis  said  to  him,  "  Now,  Paul,  you  are 
reconciled  with  God ;  go  and  quit  your  secular  dress, 
to  take  again  your  holy  religious  habit ;  begin  a  retreat 
of  nine  days,  to  shake  off  the  dust  of  your  feet,  to 
make  penance  of  your  sins ;  and  then  you  shall  com- 
mence your  theological  studies,  that  you  may,  when 
worthy  of  it,  be  ordained  a  priest.  I  authorize  you,  as 
a  reward,  to  live  among  the  fathers  of  the  convent, 
though,  according  to  the  rule,  you  should  be  amon§ 
the  scholastics." 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  263 

According  to  the  order  of  the  superior,  Paul  conse- 
crated nine  days  to  prayer  and  penance ;  then  studied 
theology.  A  few  months  passed  away,  and  Paul 
was  no  longer  the  same  man.  Seeing  the  trifling 
and  absurd  proofs  put  forth  by  Bonacina,  Tornelli, 
Vasquez,  St.  Thomas,  Suarez,  etc.,  all  the  great  divines, 
to  advocate  the  doctrines  of  Popery ;  hearing  the  in- 
famous treatises  of  morals  of  these  and  other  theo- 
logians ;  reading  the  subversive  and  obscene  works  of 
the  casuists;  witnessing  every  day  the  monks  haunt- 
ing inns,  taverns,  houses  of  ill  fame ;  seducing  young 
ladies,  nuns,  and  even  married  women ;  coming  to  the 
convent  drunk ;  and  mingling  with  the  lowest  vices 
prayer,  mass,  and  other  practices  of  worship,  —  his 
doubts  increased.  He  thought  that  all  his  mother  and 
Isram  had  said  to  him  of  the  misconduct  and  scandals  of 
the  Romish  clergy  being  true,  perhaps  what  they  had 
said  of  the  doctrines  of  the  church  was  true  also ;  so 
much  so  that  his  theological  studies  shook  his  faith. 
These  reflections  excited  indignation  in  his  soul,  for 
the  sad  recollection  of  what  he  had  suffered,  and  of 
what  he  had  caused  his  mother,  Isram,  and  Julia  to 
suffer,  assailed  his  memory,  excited  his  regrets,  and 
inflamed  his  love.  In  vain  Father  Francis,  to  whom 
he  confessed  these  sins  of  doubt,  used  the  hot  iron  of 
blind  obedience,  and  inflicted  upon  him  the  most  hu- 
miliating and  austere  penances ;  his  doubts  became 
stronger,  and  were  about  to  change  in  his  mind  into 
certainty,  as  the  power  of  his  reason  was  growing  in 
the  midst  of  his  internal  conflicts. 

Father  Francis  seeing  that  the  vow  of  blind  obedi- 


264  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

ence  was  no  longer  for  Paul  a  sacred  bond ;  that  being 
tied  by  this  sole  obligation  of  conscience,  his  mind 
would  be  sooner  or  later  emancipated,  would  see  light, 
and  then  would  shake  all  at  once  the  monastical  and 
Romish  belief  and  practices,  he  yielded  to  necessity, 
and  undertook  to  resolve  by  reasoning  the  objections 
of  Paul,  He  then  discussed  often  with  him. 


3PA.TTL  AND   JTTLIA.. 


265 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 


BISCLOSUBES, 

ten   o'clock,   one    evening, 

—  the  hour  fixed  by  Father 
Francis,   who,   usually  meet- 
ing with  Paul  in  the  morn- 
ing, had    forgotten   both  the 
hour    and    the    appointment, 

—  Paul  knocked  at  his  door, 
and  believing  that  he  heard 
the  usual  answer  of  his  supe- 
rior,   "  Walk   in,"    he    went 
in ;  and  O,  surprise  !  he  saw 
a  young  woman,  who,  at  the 
sight  of  Paul,   tried  to  con- 
ceal herself,  and  exclaimed,  — 

*'  What  J  Francis,  you  have  not  locked  the  door !  " 

"  I  forgot  it,  dear  Rosa,"  Reverend  Father  Francis 
responded.  "  But  do  not  trouble  yourself;  this  friar 
does  not  know  you." 

She  rose  up  with  anger,  arrayed  herself  in  her  male 
costume,  and,  murmuring  some  words  of  fury,  —  not 
listening  to  Father  Francis,  who  tried  to  calm  her,  even 
without  looking  at  him,  —  left  the  room,  glided  noise- 
lessly along  retired  corridors,  opened  a  night  door,  and 
went  out. 

At  the  sight  of  that  woman,  Paul  remained  aa 
motionless  as  if  he  had  been  thunderstruck.  When 
23 


266  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

she  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  he  rushed  to  the 
door  in  a  sudden  start,  and  walked  out. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Paul?  "  Father  Francis  said 
to  him.  "  Stay  here." 

On  the  injunction  of  his  superior,  Paul  remained. 
Pale,  his  eyes  cast  down,  his  hands  folded  in  the 
•wide  sleeves  of  his  religious  gown,  he  retired  into  a 
corner  of  the  room,  and  took  a  seat.  He  appeared 
thoughtful. 

Whilst  Father  Francis  was  getting  up,  and  carelessly, 
slowly  dressing  himself,  he  was  plunged  in  deep  reflec- 
tion. Afterwards  he  walked  to  and  fro  in  the  room, 
and  presently  he  said  to  Paul,  with  a  strange  smile,  — 

"  Brother  Paul,  the  part  which  for  several  years  I 
have  played  with  you  must  end.  Now  my  comedy  is 
over.  Let  us  spend  the  night  talking,  for  I  have  much 
to  say  to  you." 

Paul,  who,  recollecting  all  that  his  mother  and  Isram 
had  said  to  him,  suspected  what  would  be  the  subject  of 
conversation,  answered,  — 

"  I  will." 

"  As  I  know  your  discretion,  and  devotedness  to  me, 
I  will  speak  to  you  freely  about  many  things  which  I 
know  will  interest  you." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  of  it." 

"  You  probably  were  surprised  when  you  saw  that 
young  woman." 

"Yes." 

"  Did  you  believe  that  I  lived  like  an  anchorite  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  You  know  now  that  you  were  greatly  mistaken." 

"  Yes." 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  267 

"Do  you  think  that  that  woman  is  handsome  ?  " 

"  I  believe  she  is." 

"  In  fact  she  is  so.  You  seem  astonished  at  my  lan- 
guage." 

"  It  cannot  be  otherwise." 

"  I  understand  it :  such  language  from  me  is  so 
strange  for  your  ears.  You  find  it  a  little  different 
from  my  former  way  of  speaking  to  you  ?  " 

"  Quite  so." 

Paul,  who  intended  to  avail  of  this  opportunity  to 
inform  himself,  and  take  a  strong  and  decisive  resolu- 
tion, tried  to  conceal  his  feelings  of  contempt  and 
indignation.  He  thus  answered  briefly,  but  with  po- 
liteness. 

"  Then,  Paul,  you  think  that  that  woman  is  beau- 
tiful ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  "What  would  you  say,  then,  of  several  young  la- 
dies who  favor  me  with  their  visits  ?  They  truly  are 
charming." 

"  Indeed ! " 

"  They  are  infinitely  handsomer  than  that  woman. 
I  receive  her  by  charity  !  "  And  the  father  laughed. 

"  Is  she  married  ?  " 

"  Yes.  She  is  the  wife  of  Viscount  Forra —  But  I 
must  stop  ;  it  is  useless  to  point  out  her  name." 

"  And  her  husband  is  not  aware  of  her  misconduct  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  He  loves  her  to  jealousy  ;  but  she  dis- 
likes him  now  as  much  as  she  loved  him  when  they 
married." 

"  In  this  case,  he  suspects  her  infidelity?  " 

"No.     I  prudently  told  her  to  dissemble,  and  to 


268  PAUL    AND    JUJLIA. 

show  tc  him  tenderness  and  love.  Thus,  il  fCy  voit 
que  du  feu." 

"  Still,  as  she  visits  you  often,  he  ought  to  no- 
tice it." 

"  Of  course ;  but  he  does  not  draw  the  true  infer- 
ence. He  is  very  much  pleased  with  her  visits  to  me, 
for  I  am  her  confessor,  and  the  director  of  her  con- 
science. He  naturally  believes  that  I  restrain  her 
from  loving  another  man  ;  and  as  she  confesses  twice, 
and  takes  sacrament  four  times,  a  week,  he  is  convinced 
that  she  is  one  of  the  most  virtuous  and  pious  ladies  of 
the  congregation.  Besides,  I  am  his  own  confessor, 
and  he  trusts  in  me  fully." 

"  He  ought  to  know  that  she  sometimes  does  not 
spend  the  night  at  home." 

"  Certainly  not.  She  has,  by  my  counsels,  per- 
suaded him  to  buy  a  country  house.  He  has  to  go 
often  to  attend  to  the  business,  and  he  spends  the  night 
there.  Then  she  comes  incognito  to  visit  me.  More- 
over, when  I  confess  her,  as  you  easily  understand,  we 
talk  freely,  and  meet  in  the  vestry,  where  we  are  with- 
out a  witness.  As  to  the  young  women  whom  I  prefer 
to  her,  I  see  them  oftener." 

"  Are  they  women  of  education  and  social  respecta- 
bility?" 

"  Several  of  them  are." 

"  Their  parents  and  acquaintances  probably  suspect 
their  bad  behavior  ?  " 

"  No  ;  because  they  come  to  me  to  confess  and  take 
sacrament  many  times  a  week.  They,  on  the  contrary, 
are  considered  as  pious  and  virtuous  young  ladies. 
They  have  many  lovers,  and  of  the  highest  standing ; 


PAUL    AXP   JULIA.  269 

but  on  account  of  me,  they  refuse  to  marry  ;  which  is, 
of  course,  displeasing  their  families,  but  they  remain 
faithful  to  me  ;  it  is  all  I  will.  Even  their  poor  lovers 
come  to  mo  with  folded  hands,  supplicating  me  and  giv- 
ing me  money,  that  I  may  take  their  interest,  and  plead 
their  cause  with  them.  I  promise  it  of  course,  but  I 
am  not  short  sigh'ed  enough  to  fulfil  my  promise." 

"  In  what  manner  did  you  win  the  love  of  all  these 
women  ?  " 

"  By  confession.  It  is  an  infallible  means.  I  am  a 
good  spider  to  spread  my  web  and  catch  the  flies." 

"O!" 

"  As  you  see,  Brother  Paul,  I  am  a  great  sinner." 

When  he  pronounced  these  words,  an  impious  and 
licentious  smile  was  delineated  on  his  lips. 

"  Yes,  Father  Francis,"  Paul  answered. 

"  You  have  confessed  to  me  so  many  times,  that  I 
must  once  confess  to  you." 

Saying  so,  he  laughed  aux  eclats. 

Such  cynicism  and  impiety  stirred  up  in  Paul  so  much 
horror  and  indignation,  that,  lest  he  should  hurt  Fa- 
ther Francis,  he  did  not  answer,  but  asked  him,  — 

"  Is  the  behavior  of  the  fathers  of  the  convent  like 
yours  ?  " 

"  Brother  Paul,"  Father  Francis  responded,  "  if 
heretofore  I  have  spoken  to  you  so  plainly,  it  is  because 
I  intend  to  choose  you  for  my  friend,  and  to  appoint 
you,  as  soon  as  you  shall  be  ordained  a  priest,  to 
one  of  the  highest  dignities  of  our  order.  I  will  now 
say  to  you  all  about  our  convents.  We  have  three 
classes  of  monks,  viz.,  the  rascals,  the  blind,  and  the 
initiated.  The  rascals  are  those  friars  who  are  drunk- 
23* 


270  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

ards,  taunt  the  inns,  taverns,  bar  rooms,  and  houses  of 
prostitution.  The  blind  are  those  who,  as  you  have  done 
to  this  day,  believe  and  practise  what  they  are  taught 
by  the  superiors.  The  initiated,  are  those  who,  having 
been  emancipated  from  the  belief  and  practices  im- 
posed upon  them,  either  by  the  strength  of  their  own 
reason  or  by  the  good  will  of  the  superior,  as  I  do 
now  towards  you,  behave  themselves  exactly  as  I  do. 
They  still  have  to  observe  carefully  appearances." 

"  By  what  means  can  women  penetrate  into  their 
rooms  ?  " 

"  The  porter  has  the  watchword.  To  avoid  scandal 
they  take  a  male  costume.  Besides,  we  have  many  doors 
in  the  garden  —  used,  it  is  said,  to  cultivate  it;  but  the 
truth  is,  they  are  night  doors.  Moreover,  the  confes- 
sional and  the  vestry  are  very  convenient  for  purposes 
of  that  kind.  Suppose,  even,  that  in  several  circum- 
stances these  means  cannot  be  used  ;  these  women  feign 
they  are  sick,  and  want  their  confessors ;  then  noth- 
ing is  easier  than  to  meet  them  in  their  rooms  without 
a  witness." 

"  O  Father  Francis,  I  should  never  have  suspect- 
ed it." 

"  Still,  except  very  few  who  are  what  you  have  been, 
those  monks  are  the  best  of  the  convents.  As  to  the 
others,  they  are  worse  than  brutes.  They  imitate 
those  men  of  whom  St.  Paul  said,  '  Wherefore  God 
also  gave  them  up  to  uncleanness  through  the  lusts 
of  their  own  hearts,  to  dishonor  their  own  bodies 
between  themselves.  Even  they  go  further  in  their 
brutish  desires,  for  they  use  *  *  *." 


PATTI.   A^'D   JULIA.  271 

**  Then,  Father  Francis,  tell  me  sincerely  what  you 
think  of  the  vows  of  religion." 

"  This  is  the  truth.     They  are  mere  traps." 

"  Why  then  be  so  anxious  to  find  novices,  and 
impose  these  vows  upon  their  consciences  as  strict 
bonds  ?  " 

"  Your  question  calls  me  on  another  ground,  viz. :  by 
whom  and  why  have  religious  orders  been  established, 
(by  religious  orders  I  do  not  mean  the  Christian  asso- 
ciations of  the  first  centuries.)  They  have  been  estab- 
lished by  the  popes.  And  why  ?  To  support  him  and 
advocate  his  interests  all  over  the  world.  What  is  our 
Roman  Catholic  church,  or  Popery  ?  It  is  a  system  of 
ignorance,  idolatry,  superstition,  and  tyranny.  What 
is  the  clergy  ?  The  army  of  the  pope.  The  cardinals, 
patriarchs,  generals  of  religious  orders,  archbishops, 
and  bishops  are  the  great  officers  of  that  army.  The 
superiors  of  convents,  the  grand  vicars  of  the  bishops, 
the  canons,  chaplains,  and  archpriests,  are  the  officers 
of  the  great  officers.  The  common  monks  are  the 
guard  of  honor  and  of  safety  of  the  general  in  chief, 
and  the  common  secular  priests  are  the  soldiers.  The 
nuns  are  another  portion  of  the  army.  They  have 
their  great  officers,  viz.,  the  general  superiors  of  their 
various  orders,  which  great  officers  have  also  their  offi- 
cers, viz.,  the  superiors  of  their  houses,  schools,  and 
so  on. 

"  The  pope  is  general  in  chief  of  the  army.  The 
great  officers,  common  officers,  and  soldiers  must  obey 
him  passively  and  blindly.  He  established  this  army 
in  the  name  of  the  temporal  welfare  and  spiritual  in- 
terests of  the  human  family ;  in  the  name  of  the  gos- 


272  FAUX    AXD    JTTTTA. 

pel  of  Christ  and  of  God,  but  to  oppose  the  temporal 
welfare  and  spiritual  interests  of  the  human  family  j 
to  oppose  the  gospel ;  to  war  against  Christ  and  God, 
Lest  this  army  might  be  dissolved  by  the  people  when 
they  see  how  injurious  they  are  to  mankind,  what  deadly 
enemies  they  are  to  the  gospel,  to  Christ,  and  to  God,  he 
makes  the  nuns,  priests,  monks,  and  some  subaltern 
dignitaries,  believe  that  obeying  passively  and  blindly- 
either  himself  or  the  cardinals,  patriarchs,  generals  of 
religious  orders,  etc.,  they  obey  God  himself.  As  to 
those  who  among  them  would  be  intelligent  enough  to- 
penetrate  his  selfish,  tyrannical,  anti- Christian,  and  im- 
pious views-,  he  promotes  them  to  dignities.  Lestr 
being  conscientious,  they  desert  the  ranks  of  his  armyT 
and  speak  the  truth  to  the  too  credulous  people  who 
are  his  victims,  he  seduces  them  in  enabling  them  to 
awim  in  money  j.  to  be  honored  ;  to  satisfy  their  pride 
and  selfishness,  all  the  brutish  desires  of  their  bodies. 
When  they  have  been  through  these  means  won  to  his 
interests,  he  lets  them  know  the  watchword  of  his  sa- 
cred quackery.  Moreover,  lest  they  betray  him  after 
having  been  won,  he  has  united  to  the  great  of  the 
•world,  to  kings,  and  emperors.  He  has  said  to  them, 
*  Let  us  pass  a  contract  of  association.  Man  is  a  wolf 
to  his  fellow-men.  The  people  are  a  mine  ;  let  us  work 
it,  and  partake  of  the  benefit.  Lend  me  your  material 
power,  your  sword,  and  I  will  lend  you  my  spiritual 
omnipotence,  my  divine  sword.'  They  agreed,  and 
sanctioned  their  alliance  by  an  oath.  Hence  all  the 
dignitaries  of  the  Papal  army,  when  unveiling  the 
quackery  of  the  pope,  are  considered  by  the  great  of 
the  world,  kings,  and  emperors,  as  their  own  enemies ; 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  273 

they  are  condemned  to  fines,  prisons,  banishment,  and 
scaffolds.  Besides,  the  pope  has  his  secret  band  of 
murderers,  who,  in  the  dark,  poniard  or  poison  them. 

"  Now,  Brother  Paul,  I  answer  directly  to  your  ques- 
tion. You  asked  me  why  we  are  anxious  to  find  npv- 
ices,  and  impose  upon  them,  as  strict  bonds  of  con- 
science, the  vows  of  religion,  —  which  are,  I  said  to 
you,  a  mere  trap.  You  ought  to  understand  that  we 
want,  not  only  to  recruit,  but  to  increase  our  Papal 
army ;  that  the  various  religious  orders  should  people 
their  houses  of  novitiate,  and  the  bishops  their  sem- 
inaries." 

"  Father  Francis,  what  you  say  of  the  pope,  of  the 
regular  and  secular  clergy,  makes  me  desirous  to  ad- 
dress you  many  questions.  Am  I  permitted  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Are  the  nuns  immoral?  " 

"  They  are  more  cautious  than  the  monks,  and  give 
rise  to  fewer  scandals." 

"  Have  they  sometimes  amorous  relations  with  the 
monks  ?  " 

"  It  is  their  daily  bread." 

"  Are  they  allowed  to  enter  the  convents  to  see 
them? " 

"  They,  of  course,  are  forbidden  it  by  the  rule  ;  but 
this  is  for  pretence.  They  disguise  thejnselves,  and 
have  the  keys  of  the  night  doors  of  the  convents." 

"  All  of  them  do  not  entertain  criminal  relations 
with  the  monks  —  do  they  ?  " 

"  Some  of  them  do  not.  For  instance,  the  cloistered 
nuns.  I  do  not  mean  the  superiors,  for  they  hold  the 
keys  of  their  houses." 


274  PAUL    AND   JULIA. 

"  Are  the  common  cloistered  nuns  virtuous  ?  " 

"  Many  of  them  are  chaste,  but  others  are  not 
Their  imagination  being  inflammable  and  kindled  by 
solitude,  they  hold  in  disgust  the  practices  of  devotion  ; 
regret  what  they  left  in  the  world,  the  praises,  regards, 
and  adorations,  Avhich  they  reaped  in  society  ;  and  see- 
ing their  beauty  fading  in  obscurity  within  the  walls  of 
a  cloister,  they  fall  into  despair,  and  give  up  to  unlawful 
desires.  They  love  unnaturally  each  other  ;  entertain 
among  themselves  a  monstrous  love,  and  give  themselves 
to  incredible,  degrading,  and  brutish  practices.  This  is 
what  the  ascetic  authors  term  peculiar  friendship.  Be 
sure  that  when  they  meet  with  their  ordinary  and  ex- 
traordinary confessors  they  have  a  good  time.  They 
are  practically  taught  how  to  pluck  up  the  rose  with- 
out being  pricked  by  its  thorns  ! "  And  the  father 
laughed. 

"  Father  Francis,  what  you  say  is  so  surprising,  so 
incredible,  that,  should  any  one  else  inform,  me  about 
it,  I  could  not  believe  it." 

"  Yet  I  do  not  exaggerate." 

"  Are,  then,  no  cloistered  nuns  virtuous  ?  " 

"  Many  of  them  are,  particularly  those  who  are  not 
handsome.  Some  others  indulge  to  low  desires  on  the 
children  whom  they  educate  —  but  cautiously,  lest 
parents,  becoming  aware  of  it,  should  recall  their  chil- 
dren, and  cease  to  patronize  their  schools." 

"  O,  horrible  !  " 

"  Have  you  noticed  that,  wherever  you  see  a  nun- 
nery, there  is  a  convent  in  the  vicinity  ?  What  would 
the  moon  do  without  the  sun  ?  "  The  father  accompa- 
nied these  last  words  with  an  expressive  smile. 


PA.UI,    AND    JT7LIA.  275 

"  Is  the  money  of  the  monks  and  of  the  nuns  in 
common  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  we  do  not  let  the  people  know-it." 

"  How  can  the  monks  and  the  nuns  make  so  much 
money  ?  They  are  immensely  rich." 

"  As  to  the  monks,  they  try  to  have  novices  from 
the  wealthiest  families,  and  pocket  their  patrimonies. 
They  say  to  the  people  that  they  have  vowed  poverty, 
are  not  rich,  and  despise  fortune ;  that  the  more  money 
they  shall  give  to  them  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  the 
more  they  shall  be  rewarded  by  God  here  below  and 
hereafter,  according  to  these  words  of  the  gospel : 
'  And  whosoever  shall  give  to  drink  unto  one  of  these 
little  ones  a  cup  of  cold  water  only  in  the  name  of  a 
disciple,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  He  shall  in  no  wise  lose 
his  reward.'  Thus  they  are  presented  by  the  people 
with  money  and  other  kinds  of  property ;  and  the 
greatest  part  of  their  devotees,  being  rich,  give  them  a 
large  amount  of  money.  Being  the  confessors  of  many 
wealthy  old  bachelors,  old  maids,  old  widows  and  wid- 
owers, they  say  to  them  that  they  hold  the  key  of  par- 
adise, and  that,  if  they  bequeath  to  them  their  inher- 
itances, they  will  go  straight  to  paradise ;  which 
proposal  is  always  accepted,  for  these  old  people  are 
credulous  and  fanatical.  Besides,  the  monks  have 
estranged  them  from  their  families  by  artful  means. 
Again,  they  have  banks  ;  they  loan  large  capitals,  and 
deal  on  a  large  scale ;  which  the  people  do  not  know, 
because,  to  prevent  all  suspicion,  they  choose  faithful 
and  able  worldlings,  who  in  swelling  the  treasures  of 
the  monks  do  their  own  business.  Add  to  this  the 
income  from  indulgences,  dispensations,  administration 


1 

276  PAUL    AXD    JtTZIA. 

of  sacraments,  chiefly  of  absolutions,  which  they  be- 
stow for  money  on  scandalous  ladies  ;  add  the  immense 
amount  of  collections  of  money  taken  in  churches  and 
among  families,  the  immense  benefit  of  the  sale  of 
medals,  scapulars,  beads,  images,  books  of  mass,  of 
prayers,  and  of  devotion ;  add  the  money  which  show- 
ers into  the  chests  put  in  their  churches  and  at  the 
doors  of  the  convents,  what  they  harvest  in  preaching 
novenas,  retreats,  jubilees,  missions,  Sunday  discourses; 
what  they  harvest  in  replacing  the  seculur  clergy  in 
their  pastoral  functions,  in  saying  to  the  devotees  and 
rich  women  who  bring  them  masses,  '  We  monks  do 
not  receive  money,  at  least  privately,  for  masses,'  in 
order  that  these  faithful,  instead  of  one  dollar  that 
they  intended  to  offer,  may,  being  edified  by  this  ad- 
mirable disinterestedness,  give  four  dollars  to  the  supe- 
rior of  the  convent.  Finally,  add  the  incalculable 
treasures  which  they  hoard  up  by  their  public  schools 
and  colleges  ;  withal,  add  to  all  this  that  the  religious 
order  spend  scarcely  the  seven  hundredth  of  their  an- 
nual revenue.  Brother  Paul,  do  you  understand  now 
how  the  monks  get  rich  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  I  do  not  understand  how  they  reconcile 
it  with  the  gospel." 

"  Pooh  !  the  gospel !  " 

"  Can  the  nuns  make  as  much  money  as  the  monks  ?  " 

"  No,  because  they  have  not  the  same  means  at 
their  disposal.  They  have,  to  deceive  the  people, 
some  gratuitous  schools,  which,  notwithstanding,  are 
richly  endowed  by  the  munificence  of  the  faithful ; 
they  keep  public  schools  and  female  seminaries,  where- 
in they  get  a  good  deal  of  money  from  families,  from 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  277 

peculiar  gifts,  from  alms,  from  collections,  from  sub- 
scriptions artfully  imposed  upon  their  pupils  under  the 
pretext  of  adorning  the  chapels,  etc.,  and  so  on.  They 
derive,  too,  a  large  income  from  the  monopoly  of  the 
needle  work ;  for,  having  a  great  many  hands  which 
they  are  not  obliged  to  pay,  they  ruin  by  an  irresistible 
competition  the  women  of  the  people,  whom  they  de- 
prive of  their  daily  bread." 

"  In  what  manner  do  the  monks  and  nuns  gather  so 
many  pupils  in  their  public  schools  and  colleges  ?  " 

"  By  means  of  confession,  of  their  spies,  and  of  the 
pupils  themselves." 

"  By  means  of  confession  !  But  how  is  it  possi- 
ble ? " 

"  Nothing  is  easier.  The  monks  bid  their  peni- 
tents, chiefly  their  devotees,  to  praise  and  recommend 
their  schools  and  colleges  among  families,  and  to  speak 
against  universities." 

"  You  say  that  they  have  spies  ?  " 

"  A  cloud  of  them,  and  in  all  classes  of  society." 

"  For  what  purpose  have  they  spies  ?  " 

"  To  serve  their  interests  in  society." 

"  Are  these  spies  paid  by  the  monks  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  In  that  case,  how  can  they  find  spies  ?  " 

"  Listen  to  me.  We  monks  are  influential  among 
families,  even  more  influential  than  the  secular  clergy. 
We  are  able  to  protect  and  be  useful  to  all  those  who 
enlist  themselves  in  our  secret  police ;  through  our 
influence  a  magistrate  is  promoted  to  dignities,  a  law- 
yer monopolizes  the  business  at  the  bar,  a  physician 
gets  a  large  and  lucrative  practice,  a  merchant  is  large- 
24 


278  PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

ly  patronized,  and  so  on.  Do  you  understand  now, 
Brother  Paul,  in  what  manner  we  get  spies  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Father  Francis." 

"Very  well.  Now  you  can, easily  understand,  too, 
how  these  people  send  a  great  many  pupils  to  our 
public  schools  and  colleges.  They  are  compelled  not 
only  to  send  us  their  sons,  and  our  nuns  their  daugh- 
ters, but  the  children  of  their  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances ;  for  we  do  for  them  according  to  what  they  do 
for  us." 

"  How  can  you  get  a  greater  number  of  pupils 
through  your  pupils  themselves  ?  " 

"  Knowing  that  children  do  not  like  study,  and 
are  fond  of  amusements,  we  indulge  their  wishes,  and 
do  not  contradict  them.  Knowing  that  their  mothers 
are  very  much  pleased  when  we  lavish  upon  them  those 
thousand  little  enervating  maternal  cares,  instead  of 
the  bread  of  science,  of  useful  knowledge,  we  give 
them  plenty  of  cakes,  etc.  Knowing,  too,  that  chil- 
dren like  to  be  publicly  praised,  by  which  praises  their 
parents  are  flattered,  we  noise  abroad  that,  at  the  end 
of  our  scholastic  year,  we  shall  distribute  rewards  to 
our  pupils ;  the  people  flock  together,  and  a  large 
crowd  assist  at  the  solemn  ceremony.  The  children 
recite,  gesticulating  on  a  stage,  some  fables,  some  pas- 
sages of  history,  etc.,  comprising  pretty  nearly  all  the 
stock  of  science  which  we  gave  them,  and  for  which 
their  parents  paid  very  dear.  To  make  the  parents 
and  the  people  believe  that  they  have  improved,  we 
expose  some  drawings,  some  needlework,  some  writ- 
ings, and  read  some  literary  compositions  which  are 
aot  their  own  work.  To  conceal  better  our  quackery, 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  279 

we  even  announce  to  the  assembly  that  some  of  our 
pupils  are  ready  to  sustain  publicly  an  examination  in 
many  branches  of  science  which  they  have  studied ; 
but  we  choose  the  less  ignorant ;  and,  lest  they  should 
be  closely  questioned,  we  give  the  watchword  to  the 
examiners  and  a  short  program  of  a  few  elementary 
questions,  to  which  these  pupils  are  able  to  answer. 
As,  by  rewarding  only  the  pupils  who  are  worthy  of  it, 
the  others  and  their  parents  would  be  displeased,  we 
give  them  also  some  reward.  Still,  lest  our  distribu- 
tion of  rewards  should  be  considered  as  a  mockery, 
we  prudently  debar  from  the  common  remuneration 
the  pupils  who  belong  to  poor  families,  or  to  parents 
who  pay,  it  is  true,  the  board,  but  do  not  bestow  upon 
us  peculiar  favors  and  donations,  the  displeasure  of 
whom,  therefore,  is  of  no  consequence. 

"  Thus  our  pupils,  and,  above  all,  the  young  girls  of 
the  female  seminaries  of  our  nunneries,  are  pleased  with 
us ;  they  praise  our  family  care  and  teaching  in  the 
presence  of  other  children ;  these  children  are  naturally 
anxious  to  attend  our  schools  and  colleges  ;  and  their 
parents  esteem  themselves  happy  to  accede  to  their 
wishes.  Besides,  as  we  must,  between  us,  concede 
that  we  are  far  behind  the  universities  in  learning  and 
teaching,  and  that  their  pupils  are  better  informed  than 
ours  because  they  are  bound  to  a  hard  and  constant 
labor  to  be  graduated,  it  is  for  us  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance to  gain  and  preserve  the  affection  of  our 
pupils. 

"  Brother  Paul,  you  ought  to  understand  now  how, 
through  our  pupils  themselves,  we  fill  our  schools  and 
colleges." 


280  PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

"  Since  it  is  so,  the  convents  and  nunneries  accumu 
late  an  immense  amount  of  property?" 

"  They  do  so.  That  you  may  have  an  idea  of  it,  let 
us  enter  my  business  closet.  We  will  peruse  my 
books  and  registers,  and  you  will  see  how  wealthy  are 
our  convents."  » 

Father  Francis  and  Brother  Paul  rose. 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Brother  Paul,"  said  Father  Fran- 
cis. "  I  must  take  the  key." 

Having  said  so,  he  went  to  one  of  the  corners  of  the 
room.  As  he  touched  an  invisible  spring,  an  iron  plate 
moved,  and  he  took  from  a  case,  dug  within  the  thickness 
of  the  wall,  a  double  and  heavy  brass  key.  He  opened 
a  private  door,  and  both  descended  a  narrow  and  secret 
staircase.  Father  Francis  unlocked  an  iron  door,  which 
swung  on  its  hinges  as  the  door  of  a  dungeon,  and  they 
entered  into  the  closet.  It  was  a  large  square,  without 
windows,  but  lighted  by  a  skylight.  From  the  floor 
to  the  ceiling,  the  walls  were  covered  with  joinery, 
richly  wrought  upon,  and  divided  inta  countless  cases, 
filled  with  books,  registers,  rolls  of  paper,  letters,  and 
papers  of  every  kind.  Along  each  side  of  the  square 
was  a  desk,  overloaded  with  notes,  etc. ;  and  in  the 
middle,  a  table  was  covered  with  a  velvet  cloth,  ele- 
gantly' embroidered,  before  which  was  a  luxuriant 
elbow  chair. 

"  Brother  Paul,"  said  Father  Francis,  "  this  table  is 
for  my  use.  These  desks  are  for  my  secretaries,  whom 
I  choose  among  the  fathers  who  are  initiated  into  the 
secrets  of  our  convent,  and  are  my  friends ;  you  will 
be  in  a  short  time  one  of  them.  The  cases  are  with- 
out tickets,  that  nobody  else  can  find  where  are  the 


PATJX    AMD    JULIA.  281 

most  important  of  our  papers ;  it  will  take  you  a  fe\r 
months  before  you  know  all  about  it.  The  closet  is 
lighted  by  a  skylight,  and  located  in  the  inner  part  of 
the  convent,  so  that  strangers,  even  the  fathers  of  the 
convent,  suspect  nothing  about  its  contents.  Behold 
in  the  thickness  of  the  wall  our  iron  chest." 

And.  saying  so,  Father  Francis  opened  a  secret  door, 
and  showed  to  Paul  a  great  iron  chest,  wherein,  in  the 
low  division,  lay,  close  to  each  other,  piles  of  bank 
bills,  and  in  the  upper  a  heavy  pile  of  silver  and  gold, 
which  in  moving,  he  caused  sharply  to  gingle. 

"  This  money,"  Father  Francis  said,  "will  not  sleep 
a  long  while.  It  is  the  inheritance  of  one  of  my  rich 
devotees,  to  whom  I  lately  opened  paradise.  Fine  loan, 
indeed  !  A  merchant,  who  is  hunted  up  by  his  fam- 
ished creditors,  asked  this  money  of  one  of  our  agents  ; 
he  will  pay  twenty  per  cent. :  this  rate  will  help  the  poor 
devil  in  becoming  bankrupt ;  but  it  is  his  own  affair." 

Father  Francis  took  then  from  a  case  a  register  in 
folio,  shut  up  with  a  clasp  and  padlock.  "  This  is," 
he  said,  opening  it,  "  the  summary  of  the  titles  of  our 
possessions.  Peruse  it,  and  then  tell  me  if  we  have  to 
fear  starvation." 

Paul  perused  some  hundred  pages,  and  felt  such  an 
indignation  that  he  involuntarily  whispered,  — 

"  And  the  gospel !  " 

"  This  book  is  our  gospel,"  Father  Francis  answered, 
with  an  impious  laugh. 

"O!" 

"  Poor  Paul,  you  were  very  far  from  suspecting  wnat 
an  easy  and  sumptuous  life  you  could  ttve  in  this  con- 
rent." 

24* 


282  PAUL   AND    JULIA. 

"  O,  certainly." 

"  Now  give  me  this  book,  for  I  wish  you  to  peruse 
some  others.  You  should  be  initiated  into  the  secrets 
of  my  closet." 

Father  Francis  took  the  book,  sealed  and  fixed  it  in 
its  case.  He  then  chose  and  piled  many  registers  on 
his  table ;  seated  himself  in  his  elbow  chair,  and  in- 
vited Paul  to  take  a  seat  near  him.  Father  Francis 
said  to  Paul,  on  opening  one  of  them,  — 

"  This  one  contains  the  bills  of  our  creditors."  And 
he  turned  rapidly  the  leaves,  pointing  out  only  the 
amount  of  the  bills.  He  added,  — 

"  You  see,  Brother  Paul,  that  we  have  plenty  of 
heavy  loans.  They  afford  us  a  good  deal  of  money ; 
for  the  half  of  them  is  placed  over  the  legal  rate." 

"  But  how  can  you  get  more  than  the  legal  rate  ? 
You  expose  yourself  to  be  juridically  pursued." 

"  We  loan  our  money  through  agents,  who  are 
responsible  before  the  laws." 

"  But  they  expose  themselves  ?  " 

"  Of  course  ;  but  it  is  not  our  business." 

"  How  can  they  escape  the  rigor  of  the  laws  ?  " 

"  We  say  to  them,  when  it  is  a  question,  for  instance, 
to  loan  a  hundred  dollars,  to  give  only  ninety,  and  to 
compel  the  borrower  to  acknowledge  in  his  bill  that  he 
received  one  hundred.  Thus  they  are  entitled  to  ask 
more  than  the  legal  rate." 

"  The  debtors  make  known  this  artfulness  of  your 
agents,  do  they  not  ?  " 

"  Sometimes.  But  we  are  behind  the  curtain  ;  we 
do  not  care  for  it.  Besides,  our  agents  do  good  busi- 
ness; they  are  above  the  public  opinion." 


1PAUI,   AND   JTTLIA.  283 

"  With  your  usury  rate  you  ruin  many  families  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  But  man  is  in  principle  and  fact  a 
wolf  to  his  fellow-man.  The  chief  thing  is  to  save 
appearances." 

"  And  your  preaching  against  usury  ?  And  the  gos- 
pel? And  your  vow  of  poverty?" 

"  All  these  are  for  pretence." 

"  O,  Father  Francis  !  " 

"  I  understand  your  astonishment.  You  are  exactly 
like  a  prisoner,  who,  having  lived  a  long-  while  in  a 
dark  dungeon,  cannot  bear  the  beams  of  the  sun. 
Having  been  so  many  years  in  darkness,  a  brisk  tran- 
sition to  light  blinds  you." 

Paul  did  not  reply.  He  appeared  thoughtful.  His 
cheeks  were  crimson. 

"  Let  us  peruse  another  register,"  Father  Francis 
said  ;  and  he  took  up  another.  "  Ah,  this  second  one 
is  our  land  book.  Peruse  it,  and  judge,  by  the  amount 
of  the  annual  revenue  of  our  farms,  if  we  have  ground 
enough  to  be  buried." 

While  Paul  was  cursorily  glancing  at  every  page, 
Father  Francis  said  to  him,  — 

"  I  do  not  show  you  either  our  day  looks,  or  our 
legers,  or  the  many  others  which  fill  several  shelves. 
But  here  is  our  commercial  book.  Look  at  it,  and  you 
will  tell  me  whether  or  not  we  are  successful  and  smart 
in  business." 

"  Your  commercial  book !  But  you  are  not  mer- 
chants ? " 

"  Of  course  we  do  not  keep  stores  in  our  own  name ; 
it  would  be  too  impolitic ;  but  we  own  the  goods,  and 
our  agents  sell  them.  Tais  they  easily  do,  for  we  send 
them  good  customers." 


PAUL  A:ND  JULIA. 

Paul  perused  the  book,  Avithout  uttering  a  single 
word,  and  without  any  apparent  indignation. 

Father  Francis  took  up  a  large  register :  "  Brother 
Paul,"  he  said,  "this  is  the  book  which  we  call  the 
book  of  hope.  Therein  are  registered  the  names  and 
amount  of  the  fortunes  of  the  lords,  of  the  richest  fam- 
ilies, of  the  old  bachelors,  maids,  widowers,  widows, 
and  devotees,  the  favors  of  which  we  have  to  win  in 
order  to  obtain  their  protection,  their  gifts,  chiefly  their 
inheritance.  See  for  yourself  whether  or  not  the  mine 
is  rich,  and  our  prospects  brilliant." 

Paul  perused  the  book  with  the  greatest  attention. 
A  bitter  recollection  seemed  to  absorb  his  mind. 

"  Have  you  done  ?  "  Father  Francis  said. 

"  Nearly,"  Paul  answered. 

Father  Francis  opened  two  other  books. 

"  Paul,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  to  show  you  these  two 
books.  The  one  of  our  schools  and  colleges  ;  the  other 
called  the  sacred  look." 

And  he  perused  them  under  the  eye  of  Paul,  point- 
ing out  the  large  amount  of  money  which  they  harvest 
by  means  of  the  schools  and  colleges  of  the  order  ;  by 
means  of  novenas,  retreats,  jubilees,  missions,  sale  of 
beads,  medals,  images,  scapulars,  etc. ;  by  means  of 
mass,  confession,  and  administration  of  sacrament. 

Father  Francis  put  them  aside,  and  took  up  another 
book,  saying, — 

"  This  one  that  falls  in  my  hands  is  our  Hack  look. 
It  contains  the  denunciations  of  the  lay  friars  and 
monks.  Thus  I  am  aware  of  all  that  is  going  on 
among  them." 

Paul  turned  away  his  eyes,  and  after  reading  two 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  285 

or  three  pages  of  it,  shut  the  hook ;  for  he  was  afraid 
to  give  vent  to  his  displeasure  and  indignation. 

"  Here  is  another,"  Father  Francis  said.  "  It  is  the 
book  of  our  secret  police.  All  the  reports  of  our  lay 
spies  are  laid  down  herein."  And,  turning  the  pages, 
he  addea,  "  Do  you  see  the  details  of  the  intrigues 
which  are  going  on  in  the  courts  among  emperors, 
kings,  queens,  princes,  lords,  ladies,  and  courtesans  ? 
Do  you  see  the  watchword  and  conspiracies  of  certain 
secret  societies  against  these  oppressors  of  the  people, 
with  which  oppressors  we  are  associated,  and  whom  we 
have  to  support  ?  Therein  is  related  what  is  going  on 
in  secrecy  among  the  most  influential  families,  and  in 
the  sanctuary  of  their  firesides,  in  all  classes  of  society. 
Mark,  also,  how  exactly  and  thoroughly  we  are  in- 
formed of  what  is  enacted  in  republics." 

Afterwards  Father  Francis  took  up  another  book, 
saying,  — 

"  This  is  the  second  volume  of  the  same  book.  Af- 
ter a  while  you  shall  read  it  attentively,  so  that  you  may 
understand  and  inform  yourself  on  the  means  which 
we  use  to  derive  benefit  from  the  reports  of  our  spies, 
and  to  influence  the  political,  social,  and  thereby  re- 
ligious events.  I  say,  and  thereby  religious  events, 
for  we  take  an  interest  in  political  and  social  events 
only  for  the  triumph  of  Romanism.  Autocracy  being 
our  banner,  we  hate  all  other  forms  of  government. 
We  hate,  with  all  the  fibres  of  our  heart,  a  republican 
government,  because  it  exists  both  from  the  people 
and  for  the  people.  We  hate  a  constitutional  govern- 
ment, because  it  smells  of  democracy.  We  hate  an 
absolute  government,  because  an  absolute  king,  em- 


286  FATTL   AND   JULIA. 

peror,  or  dictator,  is  a  usurper  of  the  rights  of  the 
pope,  who,  we  say,  is  commissioned  by  God  to  es- 
tablish and  rule  the  universal  monarchy,  viz.,  to  impose 
upon  the  body  and  soul  of  every  man  living  on  earth 
his  arbitrary  will.  Still  we  hate  less  the  latter  form 
of  government,  because  it  is  a  step  to  reach  au- 
tocracy. 

"  You  shall  study  carefully  this  other  book,  which  is 
just  now  open.  It  will  inform  you  of  the  means  which 
we  use  to  war  against  and  put  down  philosophy,  the 
Greek  church,  and  particularly  Protestantism,  which  is 
our  most  dreaded  enemy ;  to  disseminate  disunion  in 
kingdoms  and  empires ;  to  disturb  and  destroy  chief- 
ly republics." 

Paul  listened  to  Father  Francis  with  the  deepest 
silence.  In  spite  of  his  own  will,  he  darted  on  him 
fiery  looks,  which  betrayed  his  feelings.  Still,  Father 
Francis,  in  the  distraction  of  his  mind,  did  not  notice  it. 

"  Brother  Paul,"  Father  Francis  said,  "  the  other 
books  which  lie  on  the  table  are  our  books  of  corre- 
spondence with  the  convents  of  our  order,  with  the  va- 
rious religious  corporations,  with  bishops,  cardinals,  etc. 
You  will  peruse  them  at  your  leisure  moments.  I 
am  about  giving  you  now  the  greatest  proof  of  my 
affection  and  trust." 

And  he  went  to  one  of  the  corners  of  the  closet, 
took  from  a  deep  case  an  iron  box,  unlocked  it,  and 
took  out  a  book. 

"  This  is,"  he  said,  "  our  book  of  confession.  We 
keep  registered  therein  the  number,  names,  amount  of 
fortunes,  the  gifts,  sins,  and  revelations  of  the  peni- 
tents whom  we  confess,  whether  they  are  friars,  monks, 


PAUL  A3O)   JULIA. 

priests,  bishops,  cardinals,  lords,  princes,  emperors,  or 
kings." 

"  O  Father  Francis  !  " 

"  Certainly  ;  and  if  you  have  any  desire  to  do  so, 
you  can  read  therein  your  own  sins." 

And  he  laid  the  book  down  on  the  table.  But  Paul 
did  not  open  it,  and  asked  him,  — 

"  For  what  purpose  have  you  such  a  book?  " 

"  What !  you  do  not  suspect  it  ?  " 

"  I  suspect  something,  but  probably  I  am  mistaken." 

"  This  book  enables  us  to  direct  individuals,  fam- 
ilies, cities,  governments,  and  society." 

"  Then  the  confessors  reveal  to  you  the  confessions 
of  their  penitents,  do  they  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  All  of  them  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Some  of  them,  those  who  are  initiated  as 
you  are  now,  reveal  directly  the  confessions  of  their 
penitents,  and,  it  may  be  cursorily  said,  we  initiate 
only  the  monks  who  are  smart  and  popular.  The 
others  do  not  reveal  directly  the  confessions  of  their 
penitents  ;  but  being  bound  by  the  vow  of  blind  obe- 
dience to  answer  my  questions,  they  inform  me  indi- 
rectly of  all  about  it." 

"  And  when  you  send  the  fathers  to  far  <listant  mis- 
sions, how  is  it  then  possible  ?  " 

"  Commonly  they  make  such  revelations  when  they 
come  back.  If  they  have  to  give  me  some  important 
intelligence,  they  write  to  me,  either  with  signs  agreed 
between  us,  or,  instead  of  pen,  with  a  tallow  pencil,  or 
some  other  way  —  it  is  so  easy  to  deceive  the  spies." 

"  Father  Francis,  are  the  people  aware  of  the  half 
of  what  you  tell  me  ? " 


288  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

"  Certainly  not.     They  would  stone  us." 

"  Are  the  philosophers,  and  chiefly  the  Protestants, 
aware  of  it  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  Even  their  leading  men  ?  " 

"  Some  of  them  have  suspicions." 

*'  They  speak  of  it  —  do  they  not  ?  " 

«  No." 

*'  It  is  astonishing." 

*'  As  to  me,  I  am  not  astonished  at  it." 

"  And  why  ?  " 

"  Because  they,  commonly,  are  tolerant,  charitable, 
honest,  and  truthful.  They  are  so  much  so,  that  they 
themselves  fill  our  chests.  A  portion  of  the  expenses 
for  building  our  churches,  keeping  them  in  repair,  for 
purchasing  episcopal,  sacerdotal,  church,  and  sacristy 
ornaments,  gold  ostensoriums,  ciboriums,  chalices,  and 
other  altar  vases,  and  for  supporting  our  monachal  and 
sacerdotal  luxury,  are  paid,  in  Catholic  countries,  by 
philosophers  themselves.  A  portion  of  all  these  ex- 
penses is  paid,  in  Protestant  countries,  by  Protestants 
themselves." 

"  It  is  precisely  because  they  are  honest  and  truthful 
that  they  ought  to  express  their  indignation  ?  " 

"  Not  knowing  from  their  own  observation  and  ex- 
perience what  I  now  tell  you,  they  would  be  afraid,  in 
loing  so,  to  transgress  the  great  commandment  of  char- 
ity imposed  upon  them  by  the  natural  law  and  the 
gospel.  All  we  have  more  than  they  in  power,  supe- 
riority of  number,  organization,  and  influence  over  so- 
ciety, is  derived  from  their  honesty,  charity,  and  truth- 
'ulness ;  for  in  opposing  us  they  use  only  lawful  and 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  289 

honorable  means ;  to  us,  on  the  contrary,  all  means  are 
laudable." 

"  Thus,  Father  Francis,  you  esteem  the  philosophers 
and  the  Protestants." 

"  Certainly  I  do.  I  say  so  to  you.  But  ma/k,  I 
would  talk  differently  before  the  people,  and  would 
deny  it." 

"  What !  You,  •sincerely  speaking,  esteem  the  phi- 
losophers and  the  Protestants  ?  I  do  not  understand 
that." 

*'  I  repeat  it.  I  certainly  esteem  them.  If  the  phi- 
losophers and  the  Protestants  were  not  conscientious 
men,  philosophy  and  Protestantism  could  not  exist ; 
Romanism  only  would  overrule  the  world," 

"  Please  explain  your  idea," 

"  When  I  say  that  I  esteem  the  philosophers  and  the 
Protestants,  I  do  not  mean  that  I  partake  of  either  the 
philosophical  doctrines  or  the  principles  of  Protestant- 
ism —  it  is  without  the  question.  I  speak  only  of  the 
followers  of  these  doctrines  and  principles.  Likewise 
I  do  not  intend  to  say  that  all  philosophers  and  all 
Protestants  have  my  esteem,  and  are  conscientious,  but 
I  speak  of  the  generality  of  them." 

"  Why  do  you  believe  that,  if  the  philosophers  and 
the  Protestants  were  not  conscientious  men  philosophy 
and  Protestantism  could  not  exist;  that  Romanism 
only  would  overrule  the  world  ?  " 

'J  Because,  if  the  forefathers  of  the  actual  philoso- 
phers and  Protestants  had  not  been  honest,  truthful, 
and  conscientious,  they  would  not  have  sacrificed  their 
social  stations,  fortunes,  friends,  families,  in  short,  their 
dearest  interests,  to  protest  against  the  immorality,  su- 
25 


PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

perstition,  impiety,  and  tyranny  of  the  Papal  system. 
They  would  have  given  up,  when  the  plough  of  the 
Inquisition  traced  its  bloody  furrows  in  the  field  of 
society ;  when  they  fell  and  died  under  the  poniards, 
swords,  wheels,  scaffolds,  woodpiles,  and  auto  dafe  of 
the  inquisitors,  as  innumerable  as  the  blades  of  grass 
•which  fall  and  die  under  the  scythe  of  the  reaper." 

"  I  thought  that  the  philosophers  and  the  Protes- 
tants assail  you  in  their  books,  pamphlets,  and  peri- 
odicals." 

"  Of  course  they  do.  But  what  arc  their  assaults  ? 
The  philosophers  deny  the  revelation,  the  divinity 
of  Jesus  Christ,  the  redemption,  the  salvation  of 
souls  through  Jesus  Christ,  etc.  Then  we  leave  the 
ground  of  battle  open  to  them  and  to  the  Protestants, 
and  remain  concealed  behind  the  curtain.  As  to  the 
questions  of  dissidence  between  the  Protestants  and 
our  church,  we  cannot,  it  is  true,  resist  the  power  of 
their  reasoning,  but  we  care  very  little  for  it.  Aiming 
not  at  the  conversion  of  the  Protestant  ministers,  di- 
vines, and  writers,  and  of  the  talented  and  learned 
members  of  their  churches,  we  are  not  very  anxious 
for  the  soundness  and  solidity  of  our  arguments ; 
it  is  so  easy  to  fascinate  and  blind  the  people  !  More- 
over, we  handle  masterly  the  weapon  of  sophistry. 
Our  dogmatical  and  moral  theology  is  a  tissue  of  so- 
phistical reasoning.  Yourself  have  already  remarked 
this." 

"  I  have." 

"  The  Protestants  can  convince  men  of  good  sense, 
reflecting  and  reasoning  coolly  ;  but  as  masses  are  in- 
flammable, and  incapable  of  serious  and  profound  reflec- 


PAUL  AND  JULIA.  291 

tions  and  reasoning,  we  can  easily  blind  and  deceive 
them  with,  our  sophistical  arguments  —  which  is  our 
aim." 

"  Then  sophistry  is  one  of  your  most  powerful 
levers  to  make  proselytes?" 

"  Yes.  And  add  to  the  natural  power  of  sophistry 
that  of  our  principles  of  morals,  which  are  so  bound- 
lessly elastic  that  our  moral  theology  is,  properly 
speaking,  a  code  of  immorality.  You  understand  now 
how  easily  the  people  admit  doctrines  which  flatter 
their  passions,  and  withal  rest  on  an  apparent  logical 
reasoning.  For  instance,  to  win  the  confidence  and 
devotedness  of  a  drunkard,  I  justify  his  vice  by  the 
following  syllogism :  — 

"  '  Whoever  drinks  too  much  sleeps  well ;  but  who- 
ever sleeps  well  does  not  sin.  Then  whoever  drinks 
too  much  does  not  sin.' 

"  I  ask  you,  Brother  Paul,  if  this  drunkard  will  not 
be  convinced  with  my  reasoning  ? 

"  Besides,  as  you  said  to  me  often  when  I  played 
my  hypocritical  part  with  you,  all  vices  and  passions 
are  justified,  and  have  their  apotheosis  in  our  moral 
theology.  As  to  the  dogmas  of  our  church,  the  people 
believe  them  without  difficulty,  because  they  do  not 
pay  attention  to  their  absurdity,  and  admit  without  a 
great  reluctance  dogmas  which  are,  in  their  minds, 
pure  abstractions,  and  do  not  require  costly  practices. 
Through  our  sophisms,  we  could  make  them  doubt  of 
their  own  existence  ;  doubt  that  perhaps  it  is  night 
when  it  is  day.  For  instance,  what  will  a  man  of  the 
people  answer  me  when  I  say  to  him,  at  eleven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  '  It  is  night.'.  He  will  evidently  an- 


292  PAUL   AND  JULIA. 

swer  me,  '  It  is  day.'  I  then  ask  him,  '  Are  you  infal- 
lible or  fallible  ? '  If  he  answers,  *  I  am  infallible,'  I 
draw  the  consequence,  and  say  to  him,  '  Then  you  are 
God.  I  must  worship  you.'  If  he  recoils  before  this 
consequence,  and  says  to  me,  '  I  am  fallible,'  I,  in  this 
case,  draw  this  other  consequence,  '  Since  you  admit 
you  are  fallible,  you  are  perhaps  mistaken  in  believing 
that  it  is  day,  and  must  admit  that  perhaps  it  is 
night.'  " 

"  Father  Francis,  now  I  am  fully  convinced  that,  in 
your  opinion,  the  whole  doctrinal  system  of  Popery 
rests  on  sophistry.  Please  tell  me  what  you  think  of 
the  modern  and  actual  publications  which  support  the 
Romish  church." 

"  Brother  Paul,  your  question  is  strange,  indeed. 
Draw  the  logical  consequences  of  what  I  was  just  now 
saying  to  you,  and  you  will  know  my  conviction  about 
it.  Since  the  most  celebrated  Roman  theologians  have 
established  and  supported  the  Papal  system  by  means 
of  sophistry,  evidently  our  books,  pamphlets,  and  peri- 
odicals, the  doctrinal  part  whereof  is  extracted  from  the 
works  of  these  theologians,  are  quite  sophistical." 

"  Have  you  a  great  number  of  periodicals  ?  " 

"  Thousands  of  them." 

"  Why  so  many  ?  " 

*'  Because  they  enable  us  to  blind  and  deceive,  every 
week,  more  than  one  hundred  and  twenty  millions  of 
our  faithful,  and,  through  them,  many  millions  of  their 
children,  families,  friends,  and  acquaintances.  We 
make  those  masses  of  people  believe  that  the  sophisms, 
lies,  detractions,  and  slanders,  which  fill  our  columns, 
are  sound  and  solid  reasonings  —  are  the  truth ;  even 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  293 

that  we  are  the  personified  charity.  In  fact,  we  are  the 
ablest  men  of  the  world  to  dress  well  and  produce  suc- 
cessfully to  the  public  a  sophism,  a  lie,  a  detraction, 
and  a  slander  —  we  breathe  in  that  atmosphere  as 
freely  as  fish  in  water." 

"  Your  periodicals  cannot  be  read,  every  week,  by  so 
many  people  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  But  we  have  many  millions  of  sub- 
scribers, whom  we  have  bound  in  conscience  to  get 
proselytes.  Hence  they  impose  the  reading  of  our 
periodicals  upon  their  children,  families,  and  those  who 
depend  on  them  for  their  social  station,  or  their  daily 
bread.  They  win  with  polite  and  delicate  regards  and 
attentions  their  friends  and  acquaintances,  and  deter- 
mine them  to  read  them.  Thus  for  one  million  of 
subscribers  we  have,  at  least,  fifteen  millions  of  read- 
ers. This  is  not  all.  We  priests  and  monks  comment 
on  our  periodicals  among  families,  in  the  parlors,  in  our 
homilies,  and  sermons  ;  in  short,  privately  and  publicly. 
Thus  the  faithful,  who  have  not  read  our  periodicals, 
are  aware  of  their  contents." 

"  You  have  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  money  to  sup- 
port all  these  papers  ?  " 

"  No.  We  bid,  and,  according  to  the  circumstances 
of  characters  and  localities,  oblige  the  people,  under 
pain  of  mortal  sin,  to  bear  all  the  expenses." 

"  Are  your  periodicals  ably  conducted  ?  " 

"  Many  of  them." 

"  Are  their  editors  monks  ?  " 

"  No.  We  allege,  in  order  to  deceive  the  peopre, 
that  we  abhor  to  mingle  in  financial  business ;  but 
the  true  reason  is,  that  our  stock  of  literary  anJ 
25* 


294  PAUL    AND   JULIA. 

scientific  attainments  is  too  light  for  us  to  conduct  a 
periodical." 

"  In  this  case,  these  editors  are  secular  priests." 

"  Some  of  them  ;  but  their  papers  are  so  poorly 
conducted  that  they  are  rather  injurious  than  profitable 
to  our  cause.  Still,  I  judge  differently  several  periodi- 
cals conducted  by  secular  priests,  who,  being  humbugs 
as  we  are,  and  having  been  bribed  by  promotion  to 
dignities  and  by  the  money  of  the  pope,  prostitute 
their  consciences  and  their  pens  to  the  defence  of  our 
cause." 

"  Are  the  most  of  your  periodicals  conducted  by 
laymen  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Since  they  are  not  conversant  with  your  theol- 
ogy, they  are  not  able  to  advocate  the  Romish  doc- 
trines." 

"  Of  course ;  but,  as  I  have  already  said  to  you,  we 
do  not  care  for  solid  and  conclusive  arguments ;  we 
know  that  we  cannot  defend  our  doctrines  with  effi- 
cacy. All  that  these  editors  have  to  do  is  to  handle 
masterly  the  weapon  of  sophistry,  which  does  not 
require  a  great  intellectual  effort  for  a  man  smart, 
witty,  and  artful." 

"  How  can  you  obtain  the  services  of  these  ed- 
itors ?  " 

"  By  bestowing  upon  them  protection,  honors,  and 
money." 

"Are  they  true  and  sincere  Roman  Catholics?" 

"Not  many  of  them." 

"You  have  probably  initiated  them  into  your  se- 
crets." 


PA.TJL    A.XD    JULIA.  295 

"  Yes  ;  we  call  them  our  brethren  of  the  short  gown. 
This  is  also  the  name  by  which  we  christen  the  book- 
sellers, who  facilitate  the  circulation  of  our  periodicals, 
pamphlets,  and  books  ;  who  receive  the  initiation,  too, 
because  through  us  they  make  their  fortunes." 

"  Then,  in  your  opinion,  the  lay  writers  are  more 
learned  and  more  capable  than  either  the  monks  or 
the  secular  priests  ?  " 

"  I  Jiave  not  the  least  doubt  of  it." 


FAITI,    AKD- 


CHAPTER    XXXVII 


OF    DISCLtVSVIlES. CONCIUS-IOW, 

FTER  a  moment's  silencer, 
Paul,  continuing  his  in- 
quiries, asked, — 

"  Father  Francis,  what 
do  you  think  of  the  free- 
dom of  the  press  ?  " 

"  I  think  that  it  is  our 
deadliest  enemy.  As,  after 
a  while,  it  will  infallibly 
prevail  all  over  the  world, 
it  will  certainly  kill  us  ; 
for,  being  birds  of  dark- 
ness, we  must  fear  light." 
"  If,  in   a   Mahometan, 
or    Greek,    or    Protestant 
country,  you  were  not  al- 
lowed to  write,  would  you  petition  for  the  freedom  of 
the  press  ?  " 
"  Certainly." 

**  If  the  Mahometans,  the  Greeks,  or  the  Protestants 
claimed  the  same  right  in  a  Catholic  country,  would 
you  countenance  their  petition  ?  " 

"  Not  only  would  I  not  countenance  it,  but  I  would 
oppose  it." 
"  And  why  ?  " 
"  Because  it  would  be  for  our  interest/ 


PAUL    AT  D    JULIA.  297 

"  Would  their  claims  be  right,  in  your  opinion  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And,  nevertheless,  you  would  oppose  them  ? " 

"  It  is  evident." 

"O!" 

"  You  do  not  understand  me  because  you  forget 
our  great  principle  —  man  is  a  wolf  to  his  fellow- 
man." 

"  You  were  speaking  a  moment  ago  of  the  generosi- 
ty, honesty,  charity,  truthfulness,  and  conscientiousness 
of  the  philosophers  and  of  the  Protestants,  even  of  the 
nonesty  of  their  leading  men.  You  added  that,  in 
opposing  you,  they  use  only  lawful  and  honorable 
means  ;  that  to  you,  on  the  contrary,  all  means  are 
laudable.  But  does  it  not  happen  that  some  of  them, 
being  less  virtuous,  and  excited  by  the  lies,  detrac- 
tions, and  slanders,  which  you  say  fill  the  pages  of  your 
books  and  pamphlets  and  the  columns  of  your  periodi- 
cals, speak  and  write  indignantly  against  you  r  " 

"  It  happens  every  day.  But  they  do  not  speak 
or  write  about  what  I  said  to  you  of  the  monks, 
nuns,  etc." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  they  do  not  know  it  from  their  own  ob- 
servation and  experience  ;  because  they  are  perfectly 
aware  that  the  people,  and  chiefly  the  members  of  the 
Protestant  churches,  would  not  believe  it,  so  incredible 
is  it  and  so  charitable  are  they ;  because  they  would 
not  be  suppor  ed  in  their  attacks  by  the  other  writers 
of  their  banners." 

"  Fortunately  for  you." 

"  Of  course.     Still,  some  of  the  boldest  of  their 


298  PAt;i,  AXD  JULIA. 

writers  risk  skirmishes  sometimes  ;  but  through  the 
countless  trumpets  of  our  press  we  cause  the  whole 
world  to  resound  with  these  words  :  '  Falsehood  ! 
Slanders  ! '  We  represent  ourselves  to  the  public  as 
innocent  and  harmless  as  lambs,  as  the  prey  of  vora- 
cious tigers,  as  the  mild  and  true  disciples  of  Christ, 
to  whom  he  said,  '  If  they  have  persecuted  me,  they 
will  also  persecute  you.'  When  the  people,  deceived 
by  our  hypocrisy,  have  supported  our  interests,  we  play 
the  part  of  mercifulness.  We  write  that,  imitating  the 
Savior  on  the  cross,  we  pray  for  our  opponents  ;  that 
we  address  to  the  God  of  mercy  the  prayer  of  Christ, 
'  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do  ;  "  that  we  practise  towards  our  enemies  this  max- 
im of  Jesus  Christ :  '  Resist  not  evil ;  but  whosoever 
shall  smite  thee  on  the  right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the 
other  also.'  " 

"  What  is  your  plan  of  attack  through  the  press  ?  " 
"  We  apply  the  principles  of  Machiavel ;  or,  to  speak 
more  accurately,  we  detract,  —  which,  thanks  to  our 
spies  and  penitents,  is  easy  for  us,  —  we  lie  and  slan- 
der." 

"  The  public  ought  to  rise  with  indignation." 
"  We  proceed  with  dexterity  ;  we  hide  ourselves  in 
the  grass,  and  with  a  sudden  start  we  bite.     And  1 
assure  you  that  the  poison  we  drop  into  the  wound  is 
not  a  gentle  one  ;  it  kills,  and  never  fails." 

"  Do  you  always  wound  your  enemies  so  fatally  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  in  all  cases  we  attack  and  stab  them  with 

artfulness  and  perfidy.     We  are  exactly  like  cats  ;  we 

counterfsit   inoffensiveness   and   simplicity,  show  our 

velvet  ~-aws ;  and,  when  the  moment  is  favorable,  we 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  '  299 

plunge  our  sharp  nails  into  the  reputations  of  our 
opponents." 

"  What  kind  of  tactics  do.  you  use  to  defend  your- 
selves ?  " 

"  We  disguise,  deny,  and  noise  abroad  that  we  are, 
as  Jesus  Christ  was,  in  the  hands  of  our  enemies." 

"  You  cannot  always  disguise  and  deny." 

"  You  are  right.  Sometimes  the  scandalous  deeds 
of  our  popes,  cardinals,  patriarchs,  archbishops,  bish- 
ops, monks,  secular  priests  and  nuns  are  so  visible  that 
we  must  acknowledge  them.  Notwithstanding,  it 
makes  no  great  difference ;  for  we  have  foreseen  all 
cases,  and  have  means  of  justification  ready  for  all 
events.  Suppose  that  one  of  us  has  poisoned  the  hus- 
band of  a  woman  he  loves,  or  killed  a  young  lady 
whom  he  has  abused,  —  which  happens  often  :  the 
galleys  in  almost  all  European  countries  are  a  living 
demonstration  of  it,  —  in  this  case  our  opponents  hold 
up  the  fact,  and  cry  victory.  But  we  answer  that,  if 
among  the  twelve  apostles,  chosen  by  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  one  of  them  was  a  traitor,  it  is  quite  natural 
that  one  among  us  should  be  a  wicked  man.  Thus  -we 
are  not  thrown  headlong  on  the  pavement,  but  fall  on 
our  feet  as  dexterously  as  cats." 

"  What  do  you  answer  when  they  accuse  you  of 
trampling  upon  the  gospel  by  being  immensely 
wealthy  ?  " 

"  We  reply  that  we  hold  our  riches  only  to  relieve 
the  poor." 

"Do  you  give  alms  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  no." 

"  They  observe  this  —  do  they  not  ?  " 


300  PAU  J   AXI>  JULIA. 

"  We  are  cautious.  To  deceive  the  people,  and 
make  tliem  believe  that  we  are  generous  to  prodigal- 
ity, we  assemble  noisily  at  the  doors  of  our  convents, 
nunneries,  seminaries,  etc.,  forty,  sixty,  or  eighty  men- 
dicants, to  whom  we  give  a  part  of  the  remnants  of 
our  dinner.  But  it  is  not  a  heavy  sacrifice ;  for  our 
dogs,  hogs,  etc.,  having  plenty  of  food,  we  should  not 
know  in  what  other  manner  to  dispose  of  the  remain- 
der of  our  meals."  ^ 

"  Do  you  contribute  sometimes  to  the  public  build- 
ings or  establishments  of  charity  ?  " 

"  Peruse  all  the  lists  of  subscriptions,  and  I  defy 
you  to  meet  with  the  name  of  a  monk." 

"  Do  you  pay  taxes  ?  " 

"  In  many  countries  the  governments  are  irreligious 
enough  to  trample  upon  our  rights  of  exemption  ;  but 
in  many  others  they  are  as  respected  as  they  have  been 
for  centuries." 

"  In  what  manner  do  you  justify  the  luxury  of  your 
lives  when  you  are  assailed  through  the  press?  " 

"  If  we  are  influential  with  the  government,  the 
papers  are  suppressed  or  the  editors  fined  and  impris- 
oned. If  the  press  is  free,  we  deny  ;  we  demonstrate, 
by  publishing  our  rules,  that  we  live  modestly  and 
poorly." 

"When,  seeing  how  fat,  commonly,  are  the  popes, 
cardinals,  etc.,  especially  the  monks,  canons,  chaplains, 
and  pri  'sts,  your  opponents  write  and  speak  against 
your  mortifications,  what  can  you  reply  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it  is  generally  said  among  the  people, 
'  Fat  as  a  priest,'  or  '  as  a  monk ; '  but  nothing  ia 
easier  than  to  defend  ourselves.  We  say  that  fatness 


PAUL    AND   JULIA.  301 

is  an  exuberance  of  health ;  that,  health  being  p.  bless- 
ing of  God,  he  grants  us  this  gift  because  we  are  his 
servants." 

'  Ana  the  public  is  satisfied  with  this  justifica- 
tion ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  your  opponents  do  not  reply  that  your  belly 
is  your  god  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  the  people  do  not  listen  to  them." 

"  What  is  your  answer  when  they  charge  you  witli 
idleness  ?  " 

"  We  say  that  the  functions  of  the  sacred  ministry 
keep  us  incessantly  busy." 

"  But  the  people  know  that  these  functions  require 
from  you  only  about  one  hour  a  day." 

"  We  are  not  embarrassed  on  a  road  so  easy.  We 
answer  that  study  fills  all  the  remainder  of  our  time." 

"  They  know  that  you  do  not  study,  since,  as  you 
say  to  me,  you  are  so  ignorant." 

"We  say  that  we  pray  or  meditate." 

"  Knowing  that  your  cellars  are  full  of  the  best 
•wines  and  liquors,  your  opponents  write  against  your 
intemperance  —  do  they  not  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  What  can  you  reply  ?  " 

"  What  can  we  reply  ?  —  that  it  is  a  prodigality  of 
alms  ;  that  we  bought  these  wines  and  liquors  to  dis- 
tribute them  among  poor  families  when  some  of  their 
members  are  sick." 

"  Do  you  really  distribute  these  wines  and  liquors 
to  the  poor  people  when  they  are  sick  ?  " 

"  No ;  we  know  better  than  that.  When  the  poor 
26 


302  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

are  sick,  all  they  have  to  do  is  to  go  to  the  hospi- 
tal. Ptisan  and  sirup  are  their  wine  and  their  cor- 
dials." 

"  Of  course  ;  but  I  mean  the  sick,  who,  being  conva- 
lescent, would  be  strengthened  with  some  generous 
wine." 

"  They  may  drink  water  if  they  please." 

"Thus  you  would  not  give  a  bottle  of  wine  to  a 
poor  convalescent  ? " 

"  Sometimes  we  do.  But  only  if  we  see  that  he  will 
after  a  while  pay  for  it,  if  not  in  money,  at  least  in 
working  gratis  for  us." 

"  Since  you  store  so  hermetically  your  wines  and 
liquors  in  your  cellars,  the  people  know  that  you  do 
not  distribute  them  in  alms  —  do  they  not  ?  " 

"  They  suspect  it." 

"  Then  your  opponents  attack  you  —  do  they  not  ? " 

"  Their  aggression  is  quite  useless ;  for  we  answer  that 
"*e  practise  this  maxim  of  Jesus  Christ :  *  Therefore, 
wxien  thou  doest  thine  alms,  do  not  sound  a  trumpet  be- 
fore thee,  as  the  hypocrites  do  in  the  synagogues  and  in 
the  streets,  that  they  may  have  glory  of  men.  Verily  I 
say  unto  you,  They  have  their  reward.  But  when  thou 
doest  alms,  let  not  thy  left  hand  know  what  thy  right 
hand  doeth ;  that  thine  alms  may  be  in  secret ;  and 
thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret  himself  shall  reward 
thee  openly.'  " 

"  Seeing  your  red  noses  and  faces,  your  opponents 
accuse  you  of  being  drunkards  —  do  they  not?" 

"  Yes,  but  we  charge  them  with  slander,  and  make 
the  people  believe  that  our  redness  arises  from  our 
modesty,  from  the  ardor  of  our  piety,  from  our  love 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  303 

for  God,  which,  by  his  holy  grace,  consumes  our 
hearts." 

"  Are  your  opponents  and  the  people  satisfied  with 
the  explanation  which  you  give  of  your  fatness,  and  of 
the  redness  of  your  noses  and  faces  ?  " 

"  Not  all  of  them ;  hut  we  then  throw  up  to  their 
faces  these  words  of  Christ,  which  apparently  justify 
ourselves,  and  withal  accuse  them  :  '  Moreover,  when  ye 
fast,  be  not  as  the  hypocrites,  of  a  sad  countenance ;  for 
t'ney  disfigure  their  faces,  that  they  may  appear  unto 
men  to  fast.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  They  have  their 
reward.  But  thou,  when  thou  fastest,  anoint  thine 
head  and  wash  thy  face,  that  thou  appear  not  unto  men. 
to  fast,  but  unto  thy  Father  which  is  in  secret ;  and 
thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret  shall  reward  thee 
openly.'  " 

"  The  Roman  Catholics  read  the  Bible,  the  books, 
pamphlets,  and  periodicals,  written  by  philosophers  or 
Protestants  —  do  they  not  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  They  are  forbidden  it  under  pain 
of  mortal  sin  and  hell.  "Were  they  allowed  it,  all  the 
Papal  system  would  fall.  In  fifty  years,  perhaps,  we 
should  have  to  run  all  over  the  world  to  find  one 
faithful." 

"  Would  the  philosophical  writings  be  more  effica- 
cious to  shake  their  Catholic  faith  than  the  Bible,  and 
the  books  of  the  Protestants." 

"  O,  no  !  " 

"  Why  ? " 

"  Because  they  could  not  comprehend  easily  the  phil- 
osophical doctrines ;  but,  reading  and  interpreting  the 
Bible  for  themselves,  being  aided  by  the  Protestant 


304  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

books,  they  could  see  immediately  the  thread  of  out 
quackery." 

"  Tell  me  why  so  many  faithful  become  sceptic." 

"  Because,  being  taught  by  their  good  sense,  and 
knowing  through  their  observations,  what  is  our  church, 
besides  having  not  read  and  studied  the  Bible,  they 
naturally  infer  that  all  religions  are  a  mere  quackery." 

"  Many  faithful  become  Protestants  —  is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"Not  many." 

"  And  why  ?  " 

"  For  several  and  strong  reasons." 

"  What  are  they  ?  " 

"  I  have  just  pointed  out  one  of  them." 

"  Which  one  ?  The  prohibition  of  reading  and  in- 
terpreting the  Bible  for  themselves  ;  to  read  the  Prot- 
estant books,  pamphlets,  and  periodicals  ?  " 

"  Yes.  And  it  is  the  strongest ;  for  you  know  the 
Latin  adage,  "Ignoti  nulla  cupido  "  — We  do  not  de- 
sire what  we  do  not  know." 

"  What  are  the  others  ?  " 

"  One  of  them  is  the  fear  of  our  vengeance,  and  of 
our  relentless  and  lasting  persecutions.  If  a  Catholic 
who  becomes  a  Protestant  is  a  merchant,  we  forbid  the 
Catholics  to  purchase  in  his  store.  Is  he  a  lawyer,  we 
withdraw  his  clicncy.  Is  he  a  physician,  we  destroy 
his  reputation  of  a  moral,  honest,  and  learned  man. 
Is  he  a  magistrate,  we  kill  him  morally  in  the  public 
opinion.  Is  he  a  public  officer  of  the  government,  we 
are  restless  in  our  intrigues  until  he  be  deprived  of  his 
employment ;  and  so  on.  You  ought  to  understand, 
Brother  Paul,  that  a  man  who  is  not  endowed  with  an 
heroical  energy  does  not  sacrifice  to  his  religious  con- 


PAUL    A7TD    JTTLTA.  305 

yictions  his  own  interests,  those  of  his  family,  of  his 
wife,  and  children.  Moreover,  if  he  is  an  influential 
man,  and  we  thereby  fear  to  lose  through  him  some 
faithful,  ne  may  be  certain  that,  if  we  can,  he  shall  be 
poniarded,  or  poisoned  by  our  secret  murderers." 

"  O  Father  Francis  !  " 

"  It  is  so." 

«  Still ! " 

"  Without  it,  we  could  not  get  along." 

"  But  to  persecute,  to  assassinate  1 " 

"  Certainly." 

"O!" 

"  We  must  have  the  instinct  of  preservation." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  instinct  of  preservation  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  we  must  preserve  the  existence  of  our 
church." 

"  But  not  by  persecuting  —  killing  ?  " 

"  Remember  that,  if  we  do  not  use  intolerance,  per- 
secution, and  murder,  the  faithful  will  become  enlight- 
ened, will  shake  off  our  yoke,  and  in  their  indignation 
will  stone  us.  Keep  well  in  your  mind  that  intolerance, 
persecution,  and  murder  are  as  necessary  to  the  pres- 
ervation of  the  Papal  church  as  eating  to  the  preser- 
vation of  our  body." 

"  What  are  the  other  reasons  which  hinder  the 
Catholics  from  becoming  Protestant  ?  " 

"  Prejudices  of  every  kind." 

"  What  are  those  prejudices?  " 

"  Having  been  baptized  by  us,  taught  our  catechism, 
brought  up  in  the  Romish  belief,  and  familiarized  with 
the  ceremonies  of  our  church,  these  first  impression? 
grow  up  in  their  minds  with  years  ;  and,  as  you  know 
26* 


306  PAUL    ASTD    JULIA. 

it  is  very  difficult  to  break  off  the  impressions  and 
habits  of  our  infancy.  Besides,  we  have,  prudent- 
ly and  successfully,  caused  to  prevail  in  the  public 
opinion  another  prejudice  which  is  now  strongly 
rooted." 

"  Which  prejudice  is  it  ?  " 

"  This  it  is  :  the  faithful  believe  that  a  man  cannot  be 
honest,  moral,  and  religious,  if  he  leaves  Catholicism. 
The  word  apostate  sounds  through  their  ears  as  synon- 
imous  with  rascal,  scoundrel,  etc.  They  consider  a 
Catholic  who  becomes  a  Protestant  as  a  monster,  as  the 
most  despicable  man  among  them.  He  loses  his  ac- 
quaintances, friends,  wife,  and  children,  and  has  to  live 
alone,  avoided  and  hated  by  every  body.  Where  are 
men  energetic  enough  to  confront  these  persecutions, 
and  who,  to  obey  their  conscience,  will  accept  such  a 
bitter  life  ?  Of  course  there  are  some  ;  but  how  rare 
they  are  !  " 

"  Are  many  bishops  Protestant  by  conviction  r  " 

"  A  great  many  !  " 

"  Are  many  of  them  philosophers  ?  " 

"  The  most  of  them  are  sceptics." 

"  Then  very  few  among  them  are  sincerely  Roman 
Catholics  ?  " 

"  Yes.  They  are  the  cloaked  and  the  jackasses  of 
the  land ;  all  the  others  laugh  in  their  sleeves  at 
them." 

"  Does  it  happen  that  several  of  those  who  do  not 
believe  the  Romish  creed  leave  the  church  ?  " 

"  No." 

"And  why?" 

"Because   they  are  immensely  rich;  have  country 


PAUL    AXD    JULIA.  307 

houses,  palaces,  livery,  equipages ;  are  more  powerful, 
absolute,  and  honored  than  kings ;  and  withal  can  sat- 
isfy all  the  brutish  appetites  of  their  senses." 

"  Since  we  speak  of  the  secular  clergy,  allow  me  to 
address  to  you  some  peculiar  questions." 

"  Well." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  cardinals  ?  " 

"  I  will  speak  to  you  my  thought  in  one  word  :  three 
quarters  of  them,  not  to  say  more,  are  not  worth  the 
rope  to  hang  them." 

"  O  Father  Francis,  I  beg  leave  to  say  that  you 
exaggerate." 

"  I  do  not." 

"  Still ! " 

"  To  become  cardinals  they  must  have  killed  father 
and  mother." 

"O!" 

"  Certainly." 

"  Explain  your  meaning." 

"  I  do  not  mean  that  they  really  have  killed  their 
fathers  and  mothers ;  but  they  ought  to  have  stifled 
the  voice  of  their  conscience,  and  the  feelings  of  their 
hearts,  so  far  as  to  have  the  courage  to  kill  them,  if  it 
was  their  interest  to  do  so.  Of  course  you  did  not 
suspect  it ;  yet  it  is  the  truth." 

"Is  it  possible  !  " 

"  Perhaps  you  think,  from  the  harshness  of  my 
expressions,  that  I  judge  them  with  too  much  severity; 
but  you  are  quite  mistaken.  They  are  exactly  what  I 
am  about  to  say  to  you.  There  are  two  classes  of 
cardinals  —  those  who  are  scattered  all  over  the  coun- 
tries of  the  world,  and  are  together  archbishops  or 


308  PAUL    AND   JULIA. 

bishops,  and  those  who  live  in  Rome.  The  former  reacn 
this  dignity  only  through  their  slavish  devotion  to 
kings  and  emperors,  whom  they  generally  betray  after- 
wards if  they  thwart  the  interests  of  the  pope.  The 
latter  are  either  bishops,  priests,  deacons,  or  subdea- 
cons,  etc.,  and  have  been  promoted  to  cardinalships 
through  the  meanest  political  intrigues. 

"  The  pope,  mimicking  the  kings  and  emperors, 
who  call  princes  their  kindred,  style  the  cardinals 
Princes  of  the  Church.  He  chooses  them  from  among 
the  richest  and  most  influential  families,  that  they  serve 
more  surely  and  efficaciously  his  own  interests.  Still 
an  obscure  birth  is  not  an  absolute  condition  of  pro- 
motion ;  but,  in  this  case,  the  candidate  ought  to  be 
one  of  the  most  hypocritically  artful  and  wicked  among 
the  disciples  of  Machiavel.  All  the  cardinals,  chiefly 
those  who  live  in  Home,  are  wonderfully  rich.  Almost 
all  are  anti-Christian  in  their  behavior  and  belief, 
and  initiated  in  the  most  intimate  secrets  of  Popery. 
Having  been  nursed  in  the  most  refinedly  pharisaical 
doctrines  of  Romanism,  they  are  pharisees  in  their 
bodies  and  souls.  Having  been  brought  up  in  the 
bosom  of  wealthy  and  influential  families,  they  are  true 
worldlings.  Being  accustomed,  from  their  youth,  to 
enjoy  all  the  pleasures  of  their  senses  ;  to  satisfy,  with- 
out restraint,  the  most  brutish  appetites  of  their  bodies ; 
and,  withal,  to  confess,  to  take  sacrament,  to  practise 
the  easy  observances  of  the  church, — they  have  grown 
wonderfully  immoral. 

"  Hence,  whenever  they  go  along  the  streets,  or  cross 
the  squares,  the  people  must  kneel.  They  do  not  leave 
the  sanctuary  of  their  palaces  without  being  escorted 


PAUL    AND    JULIA.  809 

by  three  ecclesiastical  attendants,  without  reckoning 
the  liveried  escort.  They  require  to  be  bowed  to  with 
the  pompous  title  of  Eminence.  At  the  sight  of  their 
equipages,  all  carriages  are  bound  to  stop.  Soldiers  are 
compelled  to  honor  them  as  if  they  were  their  gen- 
erals. When  they  enter  a  city,  they  compel  the  people 
to  illuminate  their  houses,  and  the  garrisons  to  fire 
cannons.  If  they  sail  either  on  a  river,  or,  on  a  lake, 
or  on  the  sea,  governments  are  obliged  to  pay  their 
travelling  expenses,  and  the  sailors  to  run  up  the 
national  flag,  and  to  pay  to  them  royal  and  imperial 
honors." 

"  Father  Francis,  are  the  priests  sincere  r  " 

"  Many  are.  They  truly  believe  and  practise  all 
they  preach.  Of  course  they  would  resort,  against  an 
enemy  of  the  church,  to  the  most  violent  and  cruel 
means,  to  poniard,  poison,  etc.,  if  ordered  by  the  bish- 
ops to  do  so :  this,  you  know,  is  their  duty ;  but  as 
long  as  they  are  permitted  to  be  kind,  charitable,  and 
devoted,  they  are  so." 

"  Are  they  chaste  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  praiseworthy,  so  much  so,  that  they  are 
in  the  fire  and  yet  do  not  burn.  Under  priestly  gar- 
ments they  are  men,  and  behave  like  angels.  What 
they  suffer  when  handsome  young  women  confess  their 
frailties  and  sins  of  love  to  them,  ears  to  ears,  lips  to 
lips,  God  alone  knows.  Dangerous  is  the  electric 
shock ;  dangerous  is  fire  near  powder ;  attractive  is 
magnet  to  iron.  Quick  and  high  their  hearts  beat ; 
golden  and  sweet  are  the  words  that  drop  into  their 
ears.  The  butterfly  that  must  turn  round  a  flambeau, 
and  not  burn  its  wings,  is  to  be  pitied."  And  the 
father  laughed. 


310  PAUL  AKD  JULIA. 

"  How  is  it  that  they  do  not  suspect  they  are 
deceived  by  the  bishops  ?  " 

"  Because  from  infancy  they  have  been  trained  by 
their  parents  to  Romish  belief  and  practices.  Because 
afterwards  the  bishops  have  shut  them  up  nine  years 
in  preparatory  ecclesiastical  schools,  then  four  years  in 
a  theological  seminary,  and  thus  clipped  the  wings  of 
their  souls,  fashioned  them  like  statues,  and  annihilated 
their  individuality.  They  have  made  them  believe  that 
they  shall  be  guilty  of  mortal  sin,  and  shall  go  to  hell, 
if  they  think,  feel,  and  act  for  themselves  ;  if  they  read 
liberal  papers,  periodicals,  or  books  not  indorsed  by 
episcopal  approbation ;  if  they  read  Protestant  books 
and  tracts ;  if  they  converse  on  religion  with  learned 
philosophers  or  Protestants,  without  previous  permis- 
sion ;  particularly  if  they  read  the  Bible  for  themselves. 
True,  doubts  flock  to  their  mind ;  but  they  do  not  dare 
entertain  them,  because  the  bishops  taught  them  that, 
if  they  do  not  reject  them  instantly,  they  shall  be  guilty 
of  mortal  sin,  and  shall  go  to  hell ;  that,  although  the 
doctrines  of  the  church  are  in  opposition  to  reason, 
they  must  not  yield,  because  by  the  reason  that  the 
light  of  a  taper  vanishes  before  the  light  of  the  sun,  so 
their  individual  reason  ought  to  vanish  before  the  col- 
lective reason  of  the  church." 

"  Are  the  priests  who  are  not  sincere  virtuous  ?  " 

"  No.  Many  of  them  are  degraded ;  they  are  drunk- 
ards, gamblers,  and  haunt  low  houses.  The  others,  who 
know  how  to  save  appearances,  are  made  prebendaries, 
chaplains,  canons,  arch-priests,  etc.  When  asked  why 
they  confess  young  women  often  — '  To  pardon  their 
sins,'  they  answer,  with  a  sanctimonious  face.  When 


PA  TIL   AND    JULIA.  311 

asked  why  they  receive  those  women  in  their  rooms  or 
in  the  vestry  often  — '  For  the  spiritual  benefit  of  their 
souls  committed  to  their  guidance,'  they  answer.  When 
asked  why  they  keep  women  in  their  houses  — '  They 
are  near  relations  of  ours,'  they  answer;  and  the 
people  believe  it."  Saying  so,  the  father  smiled. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  societies  of  lay  friars, 
who  style  themselves  illiterate  brothers,  and  wear  a 
long  black  gown  ?  " 

"  They  do  a  good  service  ;  for  though  ignorant,  they 
know  enough  of  our  doctrines  to  instruct  the  children 
of  poor  families  and  withal  teach  them  how  to  read, 
write,  and  cipher.  Through  their  influence  we  keep 
the  poor  classes  of  people  under  our  control." 

"  Are  they  chaste  r  "  • 

"  You  know  what  I  told  you  of  the  monks.  They 
are  pretty  near  alike." 

"  What  have  you  to  say  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity, 
who  serve  in  hospitals?  " 

"  They  are  praiseworthy,  and  make  many  proselytes 
among  the  Protestants,  who  admire  their  zeal  and  de- 
votedness.  As  they  are  entirely  under  our  command, 
they  either  poison  their  sufferers,  or  lavish  upon  them 
the  tenderest  cares." 

"  Father  Francis,  is  there  any  virtue  in  holy  water  ?  " 

"  As  much  as  in  white  pills  administered  by  smart 
physicians  to  nervous  women.  Although  holy  water 
is  poured  on  hens,  they  do  not  lay  more  eggs  after  than 
before.  Although  it  is  poured  on  hogs  and  cattle,  they 
are  neither  healthier  nor  more  fruitful  after  than  before. 
Although  it  is  poured  on  houses,  the  walls  and  the 
timbers  are  not  more  solid  and  lasting ;  flies,  mosqui- 


312  PAUL   AND   JULIA. 

toes,  bugs,  etc.,  are  neither  killed  nor  kept  off,  and  the 
water  in  the  wells  is  not  made  purer.  Although  the 
faithful  dip  their  fingers  into  it,  and  make  the  sign  of 
the  cross  with  it,  the  devil  is  not  kept  off;  they  are 
neither  healthier  nor  holier." 

"  Since  the  use  of  holy  water  is  superstitious,  why  is 
it  preserved  in  the  church  ?  " 

"  To  keep  the  people  in  ignorance,  and  to  make 
money  by  it." 

"  Father  Francis,  I  wish  to  ask  you  if  the  leaders 
of  the  church  believe  in  a  purgatory  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Why  do  they  oblige  the  people  to  believe  that 
there  is  one  ?  " 

*'  Because  it  is  the  easiest  way  to  extort  their  money. 
When  a  man  dies,  we  tell  his  wife,  '  It  is  your  duty 
to  free  the  soul  of  your  husband  from  the  flames  of 
purgatory ;  therefore  give  us  money,  that  we  may  say 
a  mass  in  his  behalf.'  We  take  the  money,  say  the 
mass,  and  go  to  her  again.  '  Dear  sister,'  we  say, 
'  if  you  give  us  some  more  money,  we  will  say  another 
mass ;  then  you  will  be  more  sure  that  his  soul  has 
been  redeemed.'  We  call  a  third  time,  a  fourth  time, 
and  keep  on  till  we  have  wrested  from  her  hands  all 
the  money  she  can  dispose  of,  and " 

"  But  her  fatherless  children  !  " 

"  It  is  her  business." 

"  O  ! " 

"  We  do  even  better  than  this.  (I  except  many 
priests,  who  are  sincere  and  charitable.)  In  Catholic 
countries,  six  out  of  ten  faithful,  who  make  their 
wills,  dispose  of  a  round  sum  of  money  to  bo  given 


PAUI,   AND   JULIA.  315 

to  the  priests,  that  they  may  say  masses  for  the  repose 
of  their  souls," 

"  Why  are  the  faithful  obliged,  under  the  penalty 
of  mortal  sin  and  hell,  to  abstain  from  meat  during 
Lent,  on  Fridays,  Saturdays,  and  certain  other  days  of 
the  year  r " 

"  To  keep  them  down  jn  submission." 

*'  Why  do  you  exempt  them  from  this  law,  and 
other  laws  of  the  church,  for  money  ?  —  for  instance, 
the  law  which  prohibits  marriage  between  relations  r  " 

"  Because  to  us,  who  know,  money  changes  vice  into 
virtue ;  money  unlocks  the  doors  of  purgatory,  and 
throws  wide  open  the  portals  of  heaven."  And  the 
father  laughed. 

"  Is  there  any  virtue  in  beads,  medals,  crosses,  etc., 
to  which  indulgences  are  attached  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Why,  then,  deceive  the  faithful  r  " 

*'  Because  we  make  money  by  selling  both  those  ob- 
jects and  the  indulgences." 

"  Why  do  you  force  a  Protestant  who  marries  a 
Catholic  to  bring  up  his  children  in  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic faith  ? " 

"  To  increase  the  members  of  our  church." 

"  Why  so  many  tapers  used  in  the  ceremonies  of  the 
church  ? " 

"  Because  the  people  buy  them ;  we  let  them  burn 
but  a  short  while  ;  then  we  sell  them.  It  is  a  clear 
and  considerable  income." 

"  You  ask  a  high  price  when  you  attend  funerals. 
Why  impose  such  a  tax  on  the  mourning  of  a  bereft 
wife  or  mother  ?  " 

27 


314  PAUL  AND   JULIA. 

"  We  should  be  paid.  If  they  are  bereft,  we  can- 
not help  it." 

"  Why  a  distinction  between  the  poor  and  the  rich 
at  funerals  ?  Are  they  not  equal  in  the  eyes  of  God  ?  " 

"  Because  we  can  extort  more  money  from  a  rich 
man  than  from  a  poor  man." 

"  Please,  Father  Francis,  tell  me  in  a  few  words 
what  you  think  of  Romanism  as  a  religious  system." 

"  We  leaders  of  the  church  say  that  Romanism  is  a 
religion,  but  it  is  merely  a  pretence  ;  in  reality  it  is 
nothing  but  a  political  engine  to  keep  the  people  down 
in  ignorance,  political,  social,  and  religious  slavery. 
The  church  of  Rome  is  like  a  flock  :  the  faithful  are 
the  cattle,  the  priests  are  the  watch  dogs,  the  bishops 
and  other  secondary  leaders  are  the  shepherds,  and  the 
pope  is  the  owner  of  the  flock." 

As  Father  Francis  pronounced  these  last  words, 
his  eyes  fell  on  the  clock,  the  hand  of  which  was  on 
the  fourth  hour. 

"  Brother  Paul,"  he  said,  "it  will  soon  be  daylight. 
Our  first  lesson  has  been  long  and  instructive ;  some 
other  time  I  will  give  you  another." 

"  Father  Francis,  it  is  the  first  and  last  one  you  will 
give  me.  I  know  enough  about  Romanism  and  its 
leaders.  From  this  very  moment  I  am  no  longer  a 
Roman  Catholic ;  I  shall  leave  your  convent  as  soon  as 
the  doors  open  this  very  morning." 

"  You  are  no  longer  a  Roman  Catholic  in  belief ; 
this  I  understand.  But  do  you  mean  that  you  will 
not  profess  publicly  Romanism  ?  " 

f '  Yes,  I  do." 

"  Are  you  in  earnest  when  you  say  you  shall  leave 
the  convent  ?. " 


PAUL  AND   JULIA.  315 

"  Certainly  ;  I  shall  be  true  to  my  conscience.  This 
I  owe  to  my  fellow-men,  to  my  relations,  to  my  moth- 
er, to  the  woman  whom  I  love,  to  the  gospel,  and  to 
God." 

Father  Francis  turned  pale  ;  there  was  an  expres- 
sion of  disappointment  and  anger  in  his  looks. 

"  Would  you  go  to  Athens  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  from  thence  to  my  dear  Julia." 

The  father  opened  a  drawer,  and  took  out  a  bundle 
of  papers. 

"  Remember  the  letter  of  attorney  which  you  signed 
before  going  to  Russia.  We  have  claimed  and  obtained 
—  after  a  long  and  costly  suit  in  law,  which  has  re- 
duced your  brothers  and  sisters  to  extreme  poverty  — 
your  share  of  paternal  and  maternal  inheritance.  As 
a  proof  of  what  I  say,  you  may  read  these  papers  ;  " 
and  he  unrolled  them. 

"  O  Heavens  !  "  The  pallor  of  death  spread  on 
Paul's  face,  and  drops  of  cold  perspiration  rolled  on 
his  forehead  ;  he  fell  in  a  state  of  lethargy.  The  father 
stared  at  him,  and  smiled.  Suddenly  Paul  rose,  and 
glanced  at  the  papers. 

"  My  mother  is  dead  ?  " 

"  She  died  in  Constantinople." 

"  Where  are  her  remains  ?  " 

"  She  was  buried  by  Mahometans.  Her  grave  is 
unknown." 

"  Father  Francis,  God  orders  me  to  forgive  you  ;  but 
you  should  understand  what  are  my  feelings."  And 
lie  rushed  to  the  door. 

Father  Francis  had  rung  the  bell.  Four  monks 
seized  Paul,  tied  his  feet  and  his  hands,  and  took  him 


316  PAUL    AXD    JULIA. 

to  the  dungeon  of  the  convent.  Several  times  a  week 
Father  Francis  visited  him,  and  made  him  the  most 
flattering  promises  if  he  would  remain  in  the  convent. 
"  I  shall  be  true  to  my  conscience,"  was  the  only  answer 
of  Paul.  One  evening  Father  Francis  precipitately  en- 
tered the  dungeon^  "  Paul,"  he  said  with  a  threaten- 
ing voice,  "  this  very  night  there  must  be  an  end  to 
your  obstinacy  ;  choose  between  pleasures  and  dig- 
nities in  this  convent  or  death.  Answer." 

"  My  body  is  in  your  power,  but  my  soul  is  froe." 
The  anger  of  Father  Francis  rose  to  madness.  "  You 
have  lived  your  last  day,"  he  said,  as  he  dashed  out 
like  an  arrow  to  prepare  and  accomplish  his  murderous 
designs.  Such  was  his  fury  that,  when  he  shut  the 
door  on  Paul,  he  forgot  to  turn  the  key.  Paul  has- 
tened out,  ascended  a  retired  flight  of  stairs,  jumped 
through  a  window  into  the  garden,  and  made  his  es- 
cape over  the  walls.  He  made  his  way  out  of  Naples 
along  retired  and  circuitous  streets.  Oftentimes  he  mei 
gendarmes,  and  great  was  his  fear  to  be  arrested,  far 
he  knew  that  Father  Francis  would  inform  the  minis- 
ter of  police  of  his  flight,  and  that  orders  would  be  given 
to  have  him  taken  back  to  the  convent.  As  he  strolled 
in  the  lanes  of  the  city  groups  of  lazzaroni,  seeing  hi? 
monachal  gown,  bowed  to  him,  and  he  heard  them  say, 
"  This  father  is  going  to  see  a  sick  man,  or  to  a  house  of 
joy."  Long  he  wandered,  praying  God  to  guide  his 
steps.  At  last  he  saw  a  man  dressed  in  a  Greek  costume ; 
he  went  to  him,  addressed  him  in  Greek,  related  the 
causes  and  circumstances  of  his  escape  from  the  convent, 
and  requested  him  to  lend  him  his  assistance.  "  Will- 
ingly," was  the  answer :  "  I  know  how  immoral,  hyp- 


PAUL    AXD    JTJLIA.  317 

ocritical,  perfidious,  and  cruel  are  the  monks.  God  has 
permitted  our  encounter.  I  have  the  command  of  a 
vessel  bound  to  Athens  ;  I  shall  set  off  to-morrow,  and 
will  take  you  on  board.  I  am  the  guest  of  one  of  our 
countrymen ;  como  with  me,  and  be  sure  of  his  hearty 
welcome.  You  shall  cast  off  your  friar's  gown,  shall 
take  a  Greek  costume,  and  at  daylight  we  will  em- 
bark." 

Paul  grasped  the  hand  of  the  captain  ;  no  word 
dropped  from  his  lips,  but  a  big  tear  that  rolled  in  his 
eyes,  and  the  deep  emotion  expressed  on  his  features, 
told  his  gratitude.  They  proceeded  homeward.  At 
sunrise  they  had  embarked  ;  gendarmes  came  on  board 
inquiring  for  a  friar,  a  native  of  Greece.  They  made  a 
thorough  search,  but  Paul  had  absconded,  so  that  he 
could  not  be  found.  Soon  the  wind  filled  the  sails, 
and  two  days  after,  Paul  landed  in  Athens,  and  went, 
the  captain  with  him,  to  the  house  where  he  was  born, 
and  nad  spent  happy  days.  He  knocked,  and  a  stranger 
opened  the  door. 

"  Who  are  you,  sir  ?  " 

"  Paul  Basilos.     I  wish  to  see  my  family." 

"  Your  youngest  brother  has  left  for  India,  and  ia 
iinheard  of;  your  father  died  long  ago  :  your  mother 
died  in  Constantinople.  Italian  monks  claimed  your 
share  of  inheritance,  and  prosecuted  your  brothers  and 
sisters,  who  thus  were  reduced  to  extreme  poverty. 
Overwhelmed  by  their  misfortunes,  in  less  than  two 
years  they  all  were  dead.  This  house  I  bought  from 
the  monks.' 

The  sympatnizing  and  charitable  captain  addressed 


318  PAUL    AND    JULIA. 

Paul  words  of  consolation,  but  there  is  a  degree  of 
affliction  which  no  consoling  power  can  reach  ;  Paul 
remained  in  the  deepest  dejection.  Several  days  had 
passed  away  when  he  called  upon  the  captain,  to  ex- 
press to  him  his  feelings  of  gratitude,  and  bid  him 
adieu,  for  he  had  resolved  to  embark  as  a  waiter  on 
board  a  vessel  which  was  to  leave  for  Anapa.  As  they 
parted,  this  generous  man  presented  him  with  a  sum  of 
money,  saying,  "  Paul,  accept  this  as  a  token  of  my 
friendship  and  sympathy  for  you." 

Once  more  Paul  left  his  native  land,  and  returned 
to  his  endeared  Julia.  His  recollections  and  feelings 
during  the  passage  pen  cannot  describe.  Arrived  at 
Anapa,  he  directed  his  steps  to  the  valley  of  the  Os- 
setes.  Several  days  he  wandered  among  the  circuitous 
paths  of  the  forest,  and  at  last  met  a  party  of  Ossctes 
hunters.  Pleased  they  were  to  see  him  again,  but 
they  did  not  pronounce  the  names  either  of  Isram  or 
of  Julia ;  it  seemed  they  feared  to  answer  Paul's  in- 
quiries. At  last  they  told  him  that  soon  after  he  left  the 
valley  Julia  died  of  sorrow  ;  that  Isram  survived  her 
but  a  few  days  ;  and  that  both  were  buried  in  the 
Grotto  of  Deliverance.  Paul  went  to  the  grotto,  and 
knelt  on  the  grave  of  Julia.  What  passed  in  his  soul 
God  alone  knows.  When  the  Ossetes,  informed  by 
the  hunters  of  his  return,  came  to  tha  grotto,  they 
found  him  a  corpse  lying  on  the  grave  ;  but  no  traces 
of  violent  death  were  seen  on  his  body. 

The  Ossetes  said,  "  Their  souls  are  now  united  in 
the  land  of  spirits ;  let  their  earthly  remains  rest 
in  the  same  tomb ;  "  and  Paul  was  buried  in  Julia's* 
grave. 


PAUL   AND   JULIA.  319 

Dear  Paid  and  Julia,  repose  in  peace !  Happier  ye 
are  than  your  friends  and  fellow-victims,  who  now  drag 
out  their  lives  in  a  foreign  land  far  from  those  endeared 
to  their  hearts ! 

Ah,  Church  of  the  Pope,  thy  days  are  numbered ! 


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